


Fight or Flight

by ravenarc



Category: Kpop - Fandom, ONF (Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenarc/pseuds/ravenarc
Summary: We talk about Fight Club now. We really do. And shit does down every meeting.I'm not good at descriptions just give this a chance haha





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new work! I hope you enjoy this, check out my other works, leave kudos and comments to let me know what you think, negative stuff is appreciated too if you really want haha

Jinyoung Park stares at us like we’re bugs, tiny pests he plans on destroying. Each and every one of us, with just the wave of his hand. 

He’s allowed to, I guess, as the guy with all the power.  _ Taking _ care of us,  _ taking  _ our lives in his hands,  _ taking _ our lives. That’s dramatized of course. 

A little. 

Changbin shifts nervously beside me, breathing deeply through his nose and mouth. He’s eyeing the armed guards at all the exits. No matter how many times we go through evaluations, the large guns in their arms never cease to make us nervous. The room is hot, and how he hasn’t taken off the jacket he’s wearing is beyond me. 

Hot as it is, though, I shiver. Anxiety flows through my body as common as blood in my veins, and I can feel it thicken the thoughts in my brain. Slowing me down. This is not the time to be slow.

There are seven other trainees, Changbin included, in the room, with Mr. Park standing across from us, eyes sunken deep into his skull. He’s here to judge us, here to see if we’re up to par. We train and train for these moments. He evaluates us, lets us know if we’ve defended ourselves well enough, and then leaves. We don’t see him again for a month, when he comes to repeat the process. He’s not a hands on man.

The air in the evaluation room is heavy, weighing down on each of our shoulders. The walls are cold and white, completely spotless. We’re forced to dress in tight, black sensor clothing so that every movement can be seen against the porcelain backdrop, and every painful blow can be seen against the fabric. The only other objects in the room besides the terrified statues that are the trainees and myself is one wooden desk and chair to match. On top of said desk is paper as white as the walls, our names printed on each page and one single pen. 

Park walks over to the desk, pulling out the chair behind it, sitting down. His movements are stiff, militaristic. Everyone is holding their breath. Changbin shuffles his feet again but I don’t dare move.

“Alright boys,” The words are so cold and sudden that Jeongin, our youngest on the other side of me flinches. If we weren’t paying attention to JYP before, we are now. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

One guard, dressed in military garb steps forward from his post, away from his comrades. 

“Bang Chan and Kim Woojin.” Jinyoung is staring at the paper, not us. He’s not talking to us, either. The military man leads each of them away from the line. Another one guides the rest of us off to the side to stand against the wall. Out of Park’s most concentrated attention I breathe for the first time in what feels like twenty minutes. 

Woojin looks calm and collected, he always does. His emotions are never worn on his sleeve, just like we’re taught. His facade is only viewed as broken by us. 

Chan is the opposite. Even from this distance I can see his legs shaking and cringe for him. This kind of visible fear is dangerous. 

But visions of last evaluation flash behind my eyes. They’re painful. 

Chan was too strong then, it’s no wonder he’s afraid this time. Afraid of Park Jinyoung. 

Afraid of himself. 

The two boys come to meet in the center of the room, turning to stand in front of JYP. They stand tall, shoulders back, faces stony. Chan’s right leg bounces slightly and he shifts his weight onto it, trying to silence the screaming muscles. The guard who picked them from our line up hands them each a simple fighting knife, short blade, sharp. Chan hesitates for only one second before grabbing it by the hilt. Woojin’s knuckles are white with his tight grip. He’s afraid too.

Once the guard has returned to the door furthest from us Jinyoung nods, sighing as if he’s bored.

“Begin.” He barks. “When you’re ready.” He adds. The boys bow for him first, and then for each other. 

The match has begun. 

They circle each other slowly and the oxygen is sucked from the room with every step they take. I shift my weight from leg to leg. The anticipation is awful. 

Woojin swipes first and Chan is able to jump back. His legs seem to have steadied. Woojin’s knife misses Chan’s chest by an inch. As soon as Chan lands he propels himself forwards, knocking into Woojin and falling to the floor. Within seconds Chan has disarmed his opponent and is holding the blade to his neck. 

No one is breathing but the two of them on the floor. Woojin’s chest rises and falls quickly and he bends his head back to avoid the knife that’s so close to his throat. We’re all waiting. Waiting for JYP to call the match.

It’s not over till he says so. 

Everywhere they’ve touched each other glows a vibrant orange against the black, each ungraceful blow to their bodies laid out for everyone to see. It makes it easier for Jinyoung to tell who won in close matches should the  _ bloodshed  _ be equal.

Chan pushes further, tentatively, urging Jinyoung to tell him to stop.

“Enough.” 

But he still sounds bored.

Immediately Chan drops his blade, sitting backwards so that Woojin is free to breathe. Woojin wiggles out from underneath him, trying to stifle coughs. Chan pulls him upright and they return to the line. For them, it’s over for now. Slowly but surely the orange begins to fade from their shirts. I almost envy them. It was quick, easy, relatively painless. Seldom do we get the luxury of quick and easy matches. 

“Lee Minho,” JYP doesn’t comment on what he’s just seen. “Seo Changbin.” The nervous boy beside me stops breathing. 

“It’s okay.” I whisper. “Over in a flash.” He nods. The pair reluctantly takes to the center of the room, picking the two knives up off the floor. I watch Changbin carefully, not even fully healed from the last match he fought. A member of Choi Seungcheol’s team from Pledis cut him so deep that Changbin was unable to move for days. The gash in his abdomen has only just stopped shooting debilitating pain through his body. Minho knows it too, eyes clouded and turmoiled. 

“Begin.” Park sits back in his chair. Changbin nods at Minho.  _ Don’t hold back. Give him what he wants. _ We all know it’s what he means. And so the two begin. 

It would be a pretty even match if Changbin was healthy, but he gives it his all, swiping and jabbing at Minho every time he gets a chance. Minho holds back, too afraid to hurt him. That’s what costs him.

Changbin’s knife catches deeper than Minho’s clothes after the four attempt, and Minho’s face contorts in pain. He staggers backwards, blood pooling from his chest. Changbin doesn’t pursue him, letting him catch his breath. JYP leans forwards, watching more intently now. He doesn’t appreciate mercy. The orange on Minho’s shirt from the impact of the blade outlining his fresh cut is quickly swallowed up by red.

Minho removes his hand, slick with crimson and lowers his stance. Changbin waits patiently. They start again. Circling each other, Minho lashes out, but it’s weak. The gash Changbin fashioned reaches out towards his good shoulder, the knife hand, and he grimaces in pain. He tries again, catching Changbin this time, who wasn’t quite prepared. He manages to make a shallow cut in Changbin’s right bicep, but his opponent hardly flinches. 

Minho staggers backwards when Changbin retaliates, tripping over himself, landing flat on his back. His blood has begun to slick the porcelain floor. Changbin hesitates. He wants Jinyoung to call it; Minho is down, Minho is bleeding, Changbin has won. But Jinyoung doesn’t move, steely eyes staring daggers of his own into Changbin.

So he escalates, like a lion playing with a mouse. A very nervous lion and a very injured mouse. You can see it in his face that he cut Minho further than he thought, but regardless, he has to push on.

He advances, dropping down to straddle Minho’s waist. Minho is trying to sit up but Changbin grasps his shoulders and shoves him down again roughly, cracking his head off the floor. A second passes before he does anything else. Jinyoung still doesn’t call it. 

“ _ Over in a flash _ .” I repeat to myself desperately. Still nothing. 

Changbin lays his blade on Minho’s bloodsoaked chest, pressing as lightly as he can get away with. 

Nothing. 

_ Harder _ . 

Minho gasps and I curse him for not being louder. The worse JYP thought we were being the quicker he’d call the match.  _ Harder _ . They cry out together, both of them breathing raggedly. Both of them are in pain. Everyone is looking at Jinyoung. He’s looking at the fighters. Changbin pushes again, harder, faster, deeper. He takes his knife and presses Minho’s throat with it. I can’t tell new blood from old or whether or not Changbin has actually cut his neck. He would never. 

Changbin stops right there. They’re frozen. He stares right into the floor, choking back tears. Minho’s eyes are closed.

Jinyoung says something. 

“Go on.” 

My breath hitches in my throat. 

“Sir-” Chan tries to argue from our line but Jinyoung raises a hand, silencing him. He looks only at the pair in the middle. 

“Changbin,” His voice is smooth for someone so callous. “ _ Kill him _ .” I can’t process what he’s just said. Changbin’s eyes widen.

“I can’t.” His voice cracks. Minho doesn’t move. 

“You can’t?”

“I won’t.” 

“You won’t.” Jinyoung lets out a slow breath. Not the answer he was looking for. Changbin is shaking over Minho’s now-unconscious body, knife still hugging his neck. It’s unclear to me when exactly Minho passed out. Nobody moves while Jinyoung summons a guard with a wave of his hand. The same guard as before comes to him quickly. 

“Kill them.”

He nods. 

My chest fills with panic as I look at the others. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. Everyone is shaking their heads at each other. We aren’t letting this happen. 

Are we?

The steps of the guard echo in the silence now, and Changbin flinches with each one. He leans forward, placing a hand on the ground. He’s shielding Minho from harm. 

Jinyoung waves an arm and a second guard advances with the first. Changbin’s eyes are so wide, staring into the floor, that I’m scared they might pop out of his head. Nothing like this has ever happened before. The two guards stop beside them. The first cocks his gun. Changbin’s arm collapses slowly with the sound, lowering himself as close to Minho as he can. He’s whispering to him, but nobody, not even the guards, can hear what he’s saying. 

The second takes this opportunity to kick him, hard, and the force throws him right onto his side, no longer able to protect Minho. The sound is sickening and a crack in his ribs can be heard even from all the way back here. He groans.

“ _ No _ -” Jeongin beside me flinches and I grit my teeth, pulling him into me, shielding his face from what’s about to go down. The eyes of a sixteen year old shouldn’t have to see death. 

Am  _ I  _ about to see death? There are thousands of thoughts going through my head right now. Why is this happening?  _ Why aren’t we doing anything about it _ ?

Changbin coughs, blood running down his chin. He struggles for breath, reaching out to grab Minho’s hand. The second officer cocks his gun too, stepping on Changbin’s shoulder, then his chest, forcing him to lie flat on his back. He looks so heavy I’m sure Changbin can’t breathe. He points the gun at his face.

Blood is pounding in my ears and Jeongin is shaking in my arms.

“Enough.” 

Every head whips around to see Jinyoung. His face is still bored, his hands folded neatly. “Enough.” He says again. The two officers are as confused as we are, stepping back. I’ve stopped breathing for the hundredth time this morning. 

“I’ve seen,” He sighs. “enough.” He stands up from the desk, gathering his papers. He leaves us the way he always does, as if it’s an unfinished story he’s just told. He leaves us confused, upset, afraid.

As if we don’t deserve answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two! So I have like twenty pages of this story pre-written because I wrote it like a month ago so my plan is to actively work on Nothing because that is brand new but continue posting this one until I run out of pre-written stuff and THEN I'll be working on two stories at once oops why do I do this to myself ANYWAYS please enjoy

Shocked is pretty much the only word available to express everyone’s feelings in this moment. I’m sure every set of legs is ready to give out.

Despite this, however, the six of us still standing sprint as quickly as we can to the two on the ground. Changbin is trying to sit up. Minho is completely motionless. 

“Don’t move.” Hyunjin’s knees crack painfully against the ground but he doesn’t notice as he swoops in on Changbin. “Don’t move.” He pushes him gently flat on the floor. 

“Felix,” He says to me. Hyunjin doesn’t need to say anything else because I’m already there, pulling Changbin gingerly into my arms. Hyunjin moves onto Minho. He deals the best with our injuries.

I don’t think he’s ever had to heal us from something so brutal before.

Changbin is shaking so violently now it hurts my skull. 

“It’s over. It’s over.” I whisper into his hair. I hold him with one arm and stroke his forehead quietly. His breathing doesn’t slow. 

Woojin and Seungmin sit with us to press up against Changbin. Anything to keep him physically stable. 

With the help of Jeongin, Hyunjin has hoisted Minho onto his shoulders fireman style.

“We need to take them back to the dorm.” He says. We all nod, and Seungmin pulls Changbin to his feet, allowing my numb legs to straighten and eventually hold my own weight. Together, we leave the puddle of blood on the floor. 

The walk back to our dorm is quick, and Jeongin runs ahead to set out cleaning supplies; water for the wounds, bleach for the blood. We know the drill. I enter the apartment second only to him.

“We’re out of painkillers, Felix.”

“We’re what?”

“Out of pain killers.” I look behind me outside the open door. The rest of the boys are coming from down the hall.

“ _ Fuck _ .” I look around the front room. Jeongin has set out bandages, the bleach, the scissors and the string. Nothing for pain.

“Are we going to sew him up without them? The painkillers?” Jeongin’s voice is tinted with fear. I grit my teeth.

Nodding. 

The rest of the boys have made it back by now. Jeongin quickly removes items off the coffee table so Hyunjin can lay Minho down. 

Woojin takes Changbin into the next room. 

“I’ll deal with him in the kitchen.” He says to me quietly. I nod. Everything happens around me quickly. 

“Woojin,” Hyunjin catches his arm. “I need to see him as soon as Minho is done. He has broken ribs. Lay him down or something.” Woojin nods, supporting Changbin out of the living room. I long to go with them, Changbin is my best friend.

“Painkillers.” Hyunjin looks to Jeongin, waiting. Jeongin looks at me.

“We’re out.” I say. 

“We’re what?”

“We’re  _ out _ .” 

“Out of painkillers-” 

“Yes.” Hyunjin’s eyes widen. He looks down at Minho’s bleeding body. For a moment he looks completely lost, but he shakes it off quickly. 

“Chan, Felix, Jeongin,” He chooses his next words carefully. “I’m going to need you three to hold him down then. It’s gonna fucking hurt.” I look into the kitchen briefly, where Woojin and Changbin are out of sight. I envy them, wishing I could switch places. We all know what’s going to happen and it isn’t going to be pretty. 

“Yes sir.” I say, nodding at Jeongin to get moving. I kneel on Minho’s right side. Chan takes the other side and Hyunjin sits on his hips as there’s no other way to get access to his chest. 

“Jeongin hold his shoulders.” Hyunjin orders. He’s only my age but when he’s working he ages ten years. I’m constantly resisting the urge to speak to him formally because he demands so much respect. He takes Minho’s shirt in both hands with as little slack as there is; it’s begun to dry to his chest with the blood. “When he struggles too much we’ll have to take breaks, if we hold him down with too much strength we risk tearing his chest open further.” I grimace because Hyunjin said ‘when’, not ‘if’. I’d give anything to be anywhere else. Seungmin disappears into the kitchen for a minute, returning quickly with a bowl of warm water. Jeongin only had time to prepare cold.

“Do you have everything you need?” Seungmin asks. Hyunjin looks around. 

“There’s no way to get better lighting?” Seungmin laughs, shaking his head. Hyunjin asks every time. There’s only one light in each room in our dorm and we can’t move them, fixated to the ceiling and all. 

“Then yes.” Seungmin doesn’t go anywhere though, we have this down to a science. Worst injury on the table, one doctor, one runner, everyone else waits or helps, depending on their states after the evaluation. Seungmin is our runner, Hyunjin is the surgeon. I guess the rest of us are helping. Minho’s on the table. 

I have no idea what we’d do if Hyunjin was ever on the table. He has been, once, but Jinyoung Park has never pushed anyone the same way he did today and Hyunjin led us through the cleaning and stitching of his own leg. I’m pretty sure things would go very poorly if  _ he _ was unconscious and dying.

“Everyone good?” He asks, as he rips the bloodsoaked shirt open. We all nod. Jeongin looks at me with fear in his eyes, but determination is in there too. This kid has seen some shit. “Then let’s get down to business.” 

Hyunjin starts by dousing a cloth in the cold water, wringing it out, and taking a deep breath before starting. 

Without Minho’s shirt obstructing our view we can take a better look. It’s truly a mess.

“ _ Fucking Park _ .” Hyunjin curses. There are at least four different,  _ deep,  _ gashes from his shoulders to his ribs. They’re long, they’re ugly and they’re near  _ fatal _ . Hyunjin begins to tackle it. He starts at the bottom of the first one, and Minho’s breathing quickens. His ribcage expands and contracts at an alarming rate and with every breath the wounds are stretched. The third one in starts to bleed again. 

“No no no no no,” Hyunjin takes the wet cloth and abandons his first conquest, placing the strip onto the new problem space. He presses down, trying to control the bleeding. “Seungmin!” But he’s already there, handing him more cloths. “Hold here.” Hyunjin demands and Seungmin takes over pressing on the laceration. Minho groans, pressing up slightly but Jeongin is there to keep him still. He hushes him quietly, whispering into his ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying over Hyunjin. Chan is doing the best he can to not be in Seungmin’s way but the harder Seungmin pushes the more painful it is for Minho, who probably just wants to hold himself together with his own two hands, meaning Chan and I have to work harder to keep him still. Jeongin is still talking to him while Hyunjin does what he can with the rest of his damaged body. 

“You’re doing well.” I encourage him. He doesn’t say anything, focused on the scene in front of him, but I know he heard me and I know it means a lot to him. 

Two hours pass before Hyunjin finally says it’s over. He grunts as he clambers off Minho and the table and Seungmin has to support him so he doesn’t fall. He leads him to the couch, letting him rest. 

“Worked so hard his legs stopped working.” Chan says and I laugh, because that’s what you do when a crisis has been averted. “You did fantastic.” Chan says directly to Hyunjin.

“Thank you hyung.” He looks so exhausted. 

My legs have fallen asleep for the second time today as well and I stay seated beside Minho for a while, holding his hand while he sleeps. Jeongin retreats almost immediately to the bedroom and Seungmin follows him soon after. 

“Make sure he’s okay.” Chan says to him as he goes. Seungmin nods and waves a hand to signal he heard him, disappearing down the hall. Woojin comes out of the kitchen. 

“How is he?” He asks, coming to the table quickly. He kneels on the other side, gaping at the bandaging job. 

“He’ll live.” Hyunijn’s eyes are closed.

“It looks good.” He says. “I wasn’t positive-” He lets the sentence trail off. “Based off the noise- I thought it’d be worse.”

“It’s pretty damn bad.”

“You know what I mean though.”

“ _ Changbin _ .” I say to myself. I force my legs to work and let go of Minho. “Where is he?”

“Changbin?” Woojin is wiping Minho’s forehead with a cold cloth.

“Mmhmm.”

“Kitchen. Still.” Hyunjin begins to get up but Woojin protests. “I handled it. There’s nothing more to do.” Hyunjin doesn’t put up a fight. He’s completely drained.

I make my way across the room, pausing just before entering the kitchen. I don’t know what I’ll see. 

The only light is off, and our windows give us nothing but a pitch dark night. It’s cold now, in winter time, but in the summer we long to throw them open. However, they’re crossed with ugly bars like a prison, although it’s ‘for our safety’ or so they say. Enough light from the living room bleeds in and my body casts a shadow over the table. Changbin included, head down. 

“Binnie?” I make my way over to him slowly. He stirs, sitting up quickly. I pull a up a chair close to him, sitting down. I’m not quite sure what to say. Nobody blames him, Minho won’t even blame him. We know what we’re forced to do, and we  _ know _ that it is  _ forced _ . But I also know he blames himself. And the situation at the end…

That was pure bullshit. Not even part of the game.

“Have you eaten?” I ask him finally. He flashes me a look, an eyebrow raised. What kind of question was that?

“I’m fine.”  
“Water then-”

“Felix please.” But I ignore him, getting up for water. My chair squeaks angrily across the floor and I wince. He lets out a breath. I walk a few feet to the sink, turning on the tap and letting it flow for a few seconds while I grab a cup. I hear him get up as I let the water splash inside. As the cup fills my hand goes cold. Good. I turn off the tap. When I turn around he’s right there. 

I hand him the cup. 

“Fuck sit down.” I say but he shakes his head as he drinks. He looks me in the eyes, expression tired with a hint of a smile. He collapses against the counter. I grab him quickly, stabilizing him. 

“Is he okay?” He asks. We can see Minho from where we stand. He looks pretty awful.

“He’s going to be fine.”

“Is he awake?”

“Wasn’t when I left.” To my surprise, and utter contentment, Changbin is doing better than expected. I didn’t expect him to even  _ talk  _ to me let alone get up from the table. After a minute he speaks to me quietly.

“I was so scared he was going to die.” I breathe slowly, not wanting to scare him or stop him from speaking. “And then I thought  _ we  _ were going to die, when Jinyoung-” His breathing is shaky.

Changbin is exhausted and I’m afraid he might keel over. I push up against him, simply just to steady him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s over. You did well. You did  _ so  _ well. No one has to get hurt anymore.”

“For  _ now _ .” He breathes, then grimaces.

“Binnie-” I want to tell him to sit down again but he won’t concede.

“No one has to get hurt for now. But when the fighting starts again- And next evaluation-”

“But for now.”

“For now.” He nods his head, squeezing his eyes shut. I put my arms around his shoulders and he puts the cup on the counter to embrace me back. I’m careful to not squeeze too tightly.

“I’m proud of you.” I murmur. We stand in silence for a minute. He rests his head on my shoulder. “Are your ribs okay?” I pull away slowly, keeping one arm around the back of his neck so his head is bent towards me. I place my other hand on the bandage I can feel under his shirt. He winces but doesn’t pull back. He nods.

“Woojin patched me up.”

“I know but for real?”

“I’m okay.” He looks up, meeting my eyes. “Unless I’m dead, or  _ you _ are dead, Felix, or any one of those kids are dead,” He gestures to the other room. “I am A OK.” I can’t help but smile, regardless of him avoiding a truthful answer completely. We stay like this for a bit, and I relish the fact that for now Minho is stable, and for now Changbin is okay, and that for now we have the ability to hold onto each other.

Because I’m sure as hell not going to let this moment slip by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments to let me know what's good and bad are always appreciated! Let me know what works and what doesn't, your opinions and what you want to see in the future! Thank you for reading and I hope you stick with it


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we're back. Please enjoy a little more of the story, more is coming at y'all tomorrow so stay tuned, the support is so appreciated thank you so much~

“Can we go see him?” Changbin asks. I nod, pulling one of his arms around my shoulders to help walk him into the next room. We make our way to the table, where Minho still hasn’t woken up. I’ve placed Changbin on the floor near Minho’s head. 

“Holy shit.” Changbin whispers to himself, gaping at the bandages. He runs his fingertips over them gently, wincing.

“It’s not that bad.” Woojin says, lying down so he can rest his head on Changbin’s outstretched leg. I feel a pang of jealousy deep somewhere- where the hell did that come from? I shake it off quickly. Hyunjin watches everyone with dull eyes. 

With Changbin, Minho and Woojin taken care of, I choose to sit with Chan who’s caressing Hyunjin’s hand absentmindedly. Hyunjin seems to drift in and out of sleep. 

“Chan-”

“Not now Felix.”  
“We need to know.”

Chan, as our leader, was given our fight schedule for the month only minutes before evaluation. He didn’t have time to share it with anyone beforehand, and very obviously now is not a good time, but when is it ever? ‘Here, all the times you and your friends will get hurt and do the hurting. Good luck.’ He sighs but doesn’t protest. 

“Gather everyone if you really want to know.” He says finally. “We all need to be here.” I nod, jumping up quickly. Hyunjin starts and Chan frowns at me. 

“ _ Sorry. _ ” I mouth, running off to the bedroom. Jeongin and Seungmin need to be present. 

I make my way down the short hallway quickly, passing only one door, the bathroom, before reaching the bedroom. Our apartment is simple, as are all JYP houses, with four rooms all the members have to share. Kitchen, bathroom, living room, bedroom. It’s more simple than cramped, none of us came from big houses beforehand anyways. I knock just before entering.

The room is dark and I hesitate to turn on the lights. What if they’re sleeping? I choose not to, entering as quietly as possible. The blinds are up and moonlight floods in, illuminating small areas and casting long shadows. 

I don’t even bother checking Seungmin’s bed, I know they’ll be together and I know Jeongin went to sleep first. 

“Seung-”

“ _ Sh _ .” 

I blink, trying to see better in the dark. The moonlight casts a hollow glow off two figures. Seungmin’s arms are wrapped around Jeongin, his face buried in his back. Jeongin is completely trapped, but looks pretty content. 

“He’s sleeping.” He croaks. It sounds like he only woke up recently himself. 

“Couldn’t sleep alone?” I laugh quietly, teasing. I kneel beside the bunk so I can hear him better.

“ _ He  _ needed  _ me _ , actually.” The sixteen year old seems quite pleased. I smile. His braces flash back in the darkness. I’m suddenly reminded of how small he actually is.

“Saw things today he can’t unsee, eh?” I put a hand on Seungmin’s sleeping arm. 

“Mmhmm.” Jeongin agrees. 

“And you?” He shakes his head.

“So long as Minho and Binnie are okay I am.” I nod. 

“I wish we were all as strong as you, little one.” We’re silent for a moment, listening to Seungmin’s rhythmic breathing. “Chan has the dates.” I say, eventually breaking the comfortable silence. 

“He does?”

“He’s going to read them if you two come out.” I nod. Jeongin frowns, worry creasing his face. “You don’t need to be nervous.” I say quietly. 

“I don’t?” It’s a lie. The kid only just turned sixteen, legal fighting age. He’s been training and training since he was young but this month is going to be his  _ real _ first taste at what we do for Park. 

The thought makes me fucking sick. 

“Come on.” I say, standing. I don’t want to look at him. I want him to stay there forever, wrapped in someone who loves him. I want him to stay innocent. Happy. Unafraid. Leading them out into the living room feels like I’m leading a lamb to slaughter. 

Chan sits up as the three of us come in, squeezing Hyunjin awake. To my shock, Minho’s eyes are open. 

“How’re you feeling?” I ask him. I can feel my eyes widen to take up half my face. However, he doesn’t say anything, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t bother.” Hyunjin says. “He’s been in and out of it for five minutes. There are no painkillers so breathing is pretty much the only thing he can do right now.” He sighs, leaning forward off the couch to resume his most comfortable position, caretaking. He wipes Minho’s forehead with a cloth. Disappointed, I sit on the floor. All eight of us are present. Chan clears his throat. 

“I haven’t even looked at it myself,” He says to start off. “Thought it’d be too distracting before the evaluation.” We all nod in agreement. He pulls a piece of folded paper from a back pocket in his jeans. Where he found the time to change out of his senser clothing is beyond me; the rest of us still remain blackclad. 

He unfolds it slowly and the tension in the room escalates. I can feel my palms, wrapped tightly around the opposite wrists, become sweaty. 

He reads outloud immediately, no skimming for himself, nothing. 

“Day one,”  _ Tomorrow.  _ He pauses. “Not us.” We breathe a collective sigh of relief.  _ Now  _ he’s skimming. “Day four-” He squints. “We play Hyojin’s team....” His voice trails off at the end. “Minho and Jeongin-”

“What?” Woojin interrupts. Chan puts the page in his lap.

“This was decided before today, maybe we can get it switched.”

“Minho maybe, but there’s no reason for Jeongin not to fight. Why the hell would they schedule his  _ first _ fight on our  _ first  _ day-”

“Against  _ Hyojin’s  _ team.” I add, genuinely appalled. Jeongin’s eyes are glued to the floor. To say the least, Hyojin’s team is older than us, bigger, stronger and has more experience. They will not hesitate to destroy our youngest and currently weakest. Nobody says anything. Chan picks the paper up again, thinking it best to move on for now.

“Day six; Felix.” 

“Just Felix?” Changbin looks at me. Chan nods and everyone follows Changbin’s lead. I shrug.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Internally I’m panicking, but my members don't need to know that. They struggle enough as it is. 

Chan slowly returns to the list. 

“Day nine, Woojin, Seungmin, me and-” He stops. He blinks. He rubs his eyes.

“Chan?”

Hyunjin snatches the sheet from his hands. We’re all dead silent.

“Who the fuck is Jisung?”

“ _ Fuck _ .”

“They just keep throwing us  _ curveballs _ , don’t they?”

“Wait wait wait.” Everyone falls silent as Woojin catches up. “Is Jisung- Are they adding another member to us- we’re fighting  _ beside _ whoever that is?”

“It would appear that way.” Chan says, shock lacing his voice. 

“I call bullshit.” Seungmin says. I nod.

“I agree. This whole schedule is fucked.”

“Chan isn’t even done  _ reading _ the damn thing.” Hyunjin says. We fall silent again.

“That’s enough for now.” Chan says and I can’t help but agree. “You guys can read the page if you want.” Seungmin extends his arm and Chan hands it to him. Woojin peeks over his shoulder, curious. I honestly couldn’t care less, my mind is firing rapid signals through my body. Telling me to panic. Telling me to stay calm. 

And who the hell is Jisung?

It becomes too overwhelming very suddenly and I stand, disrupting the aura.

“You okay Felix?”

“Fantastic.” I lie. “We need painkillers right? I’m going to go get some.”

“Now?” Chan begins to get up. 

“Yeah,” I gesture to Minho in the center of us all. There’s not much more I need to say. 

“It’s really late, Felix.” Changbin says from the floor. “For pills, I mean. You won’t be allowed out the front doors of the company.” My body needs to get  _ out _ . 

“The company doesn’t have to know.” I begin to make my way towards our door. Chan follows. 

“Felix, Felix-” He grabs my wrist. So fucking close. “Hey,” He looks me in the eyes. “It’s gonna be okay.” We’re about three feet from the door. 

“What do you mean, I’m literally just trying to replenish-” I trail off. All the members are looking at me. Hyunjin sighs heavily. 

“How’d we even run out?” His eyes are locked on mine as he stands. He’s changing the unspoken subject off of me. “Were we  _ that _ low last time?” No one says anything, probably because no one knows the answer. It’s incredibly hard to believe we managed to run out without noticing; everything except for Changbin’s last injury prior to this fight could be patched up without them. 

“Regardless,” He goes on. “It’s my mistake. I’ll pick some up in the morning.” Again, nobody speaks. “He should be moved to a bed.” Hyunjin is talking about Minho. He leans forward, placing his hand on the wounded boy’s forehead. “There’s no fever.” 

“That’s good right?” Woojin says. Hyunjin nods, pleasantly surprised. 

“Things would be a hell of a lot worse for him if there was.” We all rejoice silently. The light in the room seems to increase and an invisible weight is lifted off Hyunjin’s shoulders. 

“Minho,” He says his name loudly. “Minho,” His eyes flutter open, breaths beginning to quicken. “Minho-” Hyunjin is interrupted however when the teen groans, squeezing his eyes shut. Changbin’s eyes are as wide as they were earlier. I put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Changbin we should-” Suddenly Minho convulses.

“ _ Roll him on his side!”  _ Hyunjin almost screams. Seungmin and Woojin help him twist Minho’s body. Minho vomits on the table, convulsing more and more, shaking violently. 

“Hyunjin what do we do?!” Woojin’s voice is panicked. Hyunjin just watches Minho, patting his back with one hand and with the other literally holding his chest together. “Hyunjin!”

“We have to just let it happen. It’s the pain. We can’t let him choke.” Seungmin says. Minho eventually stops throwing up, shaking and wheezing. There’s nothing left inside him. His eyes are dull when they roll him back over. 

Jeongin comes back from wherever he ran off too, I thought he had run away to escape the scene but in his arms are towels. I didn’t even think about what I could do to help. Woojin takes the bundle from his arms and beings to clean up the mess. Chan and Hyunjin do what they can to make Minho comfortable. Hyunjin strokes his forehead.

“At least he’s awake now.” Jeongin says. 

“I wasn’t positive he  _ would  _ wake up.” Changbin whispers to me. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes I've used up pretty much all my pre-written shit for this now I'll keep writing it but chapters will probably be turned out a little more slowly now but I really enjoy writing the story so I won't give up on it or anything, thank you for reading

They won’t switch Minho.

Chan is pacing the office of our manager, while I stand with my hands clasped tightly together, resting on my hip bones. Our manager has stepped out, going God knows where to find God knows who to try and help us; every method he tried before having failed. Manager Jinhyun had made a phone call to JYP’s office himself, but the receptionist wouldn’t put him through. From what I’ve gathered, Jinhyun is going there in  _ person _ now. 

“He can’t just walk in there and demand things can he?” Chan is restless. Of all the guys in our group, I don't know why he asked me to come with him; I am very obviously the most useless option. 

“I don’t know.” I say. He paces faster. 

“There’s no way Minho can fight tomorrow.” A few days have passed since the incident but Minho struggles to even breathe evenly. “Jinyoung wants what’s best for his teams.” He pauses. “So this would be best for us. If he didn’t fight. That would benefit our team. He would want that. He’ll let us switch Minho out.” Chan has convinced and unconvinced himself of these facts many times in the past ten minutes.

“That’s very reasonable. He’d want that.” But I’ve affirmed these statements so much there’s no meaning in those words anymore. However, Chan is much too distracted to sense the weariness. He nods.

“Of course.” 

The phone rings, making both of us jump. Chan and I look at each other, not knowing if we should leave it or not. I nod and Chan shrugs, picking it up quickly.

“Jinhyun’s office.” He answers seeming to forget any formalities and manners. He’s silent for a moment while someone on the other end speaks. “Jin-” Silenced. “You’re not ser-” Silenced. His hands begin to shake. “ _ I  _ have to decide?” Quiet. “ _ Now _ ?” I scooch closer, wanting to hear. 

_ “You’re the leader, Chan. You have to make the decision.” _

“I can’t just decide for him Sir-”

_ “You have no other fucking choice, Bang. Play Minho or let Jeongin fight both fights.”  _ I have never heard our manager snap at Chan like this. Chan grabs my arm.  _ Hard. _ “What do we do?” He mouths. 

“J _ inyoung is waiting.”  _

“Minho can’t fight.” I say quietly, shaking my head. I have no fucking clue what to do. Chan’s eyes harden and I can see him battling himself internally.

“I’ll fight.” He says. My breath hitches in my throat.

_ “Wasn’t an option, Chan.” _

“I can’t?”

_ “You can’t.”  _ Chan’s eyes are locked on mine once again. 

“Minho can hardly  _ breathe _ , but Jeon-”

“Minho won’t fight.” Chan cuts me off, speaking into the phone. My blood begins to run cold in my veins. That was  _ not  _ what I wanted him to say there. Minho can’t fight, but Jeongin, our youngest, smallest, weakest,  _ can not  _ play twice in a row.

He’ll die. 

Chan hangs up the phone. 

“Chan-” He turns and darts out of the room. “Chan!” I run after him, not knowing whether I’m angry or heartbroken. Probably both. He’s out of sight once I jump the chair he flung to the floor accidently, leaving so quickly, but when I turn the first corner of the hallway I’m knocked into the wall by a force that pulls the breath from my lungs. I gasp for air as two hands push my shoulders into the plaster.

“Don’t say anything to them.” It’s Chan, growling in my ear. He’s gripping my shoulders so tightly I almost cry out from the pain, and it doesn’t get better when he slams me backwards a second time, my head cracking off the wall. “Did you hear me? Say nothing.” My vision is speckled black and when he pulls away my legs can’t support me. I slump slowly to the ground, coughing, trying to regain a proper breathing pattern, wondering if I’m going to vomit. 

“Oh my god.” He seems to come back to his senses. “ _ Fuck _ .” He kneels down beside me, trying to help me up. I cringe backwards, into the wall, grimacing and trying to make myself as small as possible. Chan has never,  _ never _ , been violent with us like that. Not of his own free will. “Felix, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I don’t speak, mostly because I can’t. I push myself onto my hands and knees, coughing a few more times but mostly regaining an even breathing rate. The feeling of panic one gets when they’re coughing, thinking they’ll never breathe again, leaves my body slowly. Now it’s just fear of looking Chan in the eyes. What difference will it make if I say anything or not? They’ll find out won’t they?

“Felix I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“I know.” I let him help me up, clearing my throat. “I get it.” He pulls my arm around his shoulders and walks me down the hallway. I’m thankful for that, because my head is throbbing so intensely I fear my skull will crack open. “But Chan-” We’re about halfway to the exit of the building. “Jeongin can’t fight twice-”

“I know-”

“Why would you make a decision like that for him?” He’s silent as we continue walking. Making it to the door, he pushes it open for the both of us. Outside, he sighs.

“I had to. You were there, you know I had to do  _ something _ . I had to make  _ a  _ decision. And I thought of Minho…”

I purse my lips, nodding. I get it. I get why he did it. I decide not to give him anymore grief for now. I take my arm away, standing by myself.

“I’m good now.” I assure him. Together, we make our way into the dorm complex. We walk up the many flights of stairs, and eventually come to our own front door. Chan pulls out his key but I grasp his hand.

“What are you going to say?” I ask him. His eyes are hard.

“Minho isn’t fighting.” 

“And Jeongin?”

“Jeongin is a side effect. Nothing will be said.” I raise an eyebrow but before I can protest he’s opened the door. 

In the few days since the fight, Minho has moved from the table to the couch two feet away, with the help of everyone for the transfer. When we enter the dorm, he’s right where expected. Our other members are in assorted places, but as soon as they hear us they bleed into the living room from the kitchen and back hall. Everyone is present except for Woojin and Seungmin. Jeongin, Hyunjin and Changbin greet us.

“How’d it go?” Hyunjin tries to look nonchalant, hiding obvious anxieties. He kneels down beside Minho, pretending to check his bandages. Chan and I come in slowly, and I stand beside Changbin quickly, sliding my hand into his. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but my head still throbs violently. 

“You okay?” He’s frowning and I shake my head, but nod towards Chan so his attention leaves my face. 

“Minho isn’t fighting.” Chan says. Instantly, the three boys let out the breaths they’ve been holding. Changbin squeezes my hand, elated. Jeongin is smiling, and he doesn’t even ask about himself. 

Everyone is very happy the crisis has been averted, and I force myself to smile with them while we spend the next half hour together. Minho even wakes up, just listening to us talk. Eventually, Changbin pulls me away to the bedroom, leaving everyone else behind. 

He shuts the door after we go in, pushing me into the middle of it gently, surrounded by ten bunks. 

“Where are Woojin and Seungmin?” I ask, my headache eases because its dimly lit opposed to the harsh orange light of our living room. 

“They’re training.” He says, he takes off his sweater, laying it on one of the bunks, then picks up another one, slipping it on. Why he needed to switch sweaters is beyond me, but the view was nice in the meantime. “Felix,” I look away quickly, thinking he’s busting me for staring. “What’s wrong with you? What happened?” My shoulders burn where Chan had grabbed them and I absentmindedly feel the goose egg on the back of my head. 

“Nothing  _ happened _ ,” I say.

“You’re not okay though. I can tell when you’re not okay.” He approaches me quickly, grabbing my hand from behind my head, taking its place. He feels the lump and I wince away as his eyes widen. “What the fuck-”

“It’s nothing. My head hurts-”

“I bet it does!” He’s getting worked up. “Felix who did that to you?” I’ve shaken his hand off, trying to back away but he reaches out again, holding my wrist.

But that was a bad plan for him and the movement must’ve fucked with his broken ribs as he grimaces, legs almost giving out with the pain. 

“Changbin-” I get him to sit on the nearest bed. He’s breathing hard, holding his side. “That still hurts you?”

“Obviously-”

“And you’ve been resting?” I send my hand up his sweater, feeling the bruised area. His skin is warm against my cold hands, and his ribcage shutters with every breath. I’m very aware of how close we are. He closes his eyes, very much in pain and I gingerly remove my fingers. “What are we gonna do with you?” This makes him laugh, and then cringe again. He lies down, resting his head on his own arm and the other across his stomach. 

“Your head.” He demands, eyes closed. “What happened?” I sigh, I had hoped we had forgotten about that. I know I don’t want to tell him the truth-

But I really don’t want to lie. 

“I hit it,”  _ Obviously _ . “Off the wall.”

“What wall.”

“In Jinhyun’s hallway.”

“How.”

“I-” I hate myself for hesitating, and because I do, he opens his eyes again. He props himself up on an elbow, looking me in the eyes.

“You what.” I want to look at the floor, but his brown eyes are so intense I can’t rip my own away.

“There was an argument, Chan and I-”

“Chan?” He sits up completely, ignoring the pain in his ribs. “ _ Chan  _ hurt you?”

“No no no.” I shake my hands repeatedly like a child. “Well, yes.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“Not on purpose-”

“Felix that bump is no fucking joke-”

“I’m okay. Really. It’s nothing he didn’t mean to I’m  _ fine _ .” Changbin is  _ seething _ , however. 

“Why would he do that? That’s not like him at all. Why would he hurt you?” 

“Binnie _calm_ _down_ ,” I sit on the bed with him, desperate for him to be a little quieter. Chan is in the house of course. 

“Lie down.” He orders. I do so, and he lies down beside me, tucking his arm under my head. “It still hurts?”

“Absolutely.” I try to laugh. 

“I’d get you painkillers but,” He shrugs. That was actually mediocrely funny. “We don’t have any anyways.” He smiles and closes his eyes. “Just sleep then. Sleep can cure any headache.” I close my eyes too, but it’s almost impossible to sleep through the pain. Jeongin’s face, his braces smile, flash behind my eyelids. The thought of what he’s going to go through tomorrow makes my breath hitch and my mouth go dry. 

“At least Minho’s not fighting.” Changbin says. I thought he was asleep, and he’s very very close, but one happy thought is still on his mind. 

“You’re right.” I say, although the words turn sour on my tongue. If only everyone knew what the cost of that would be. 

 

Despite the WM team, captained by Kim Hyojin, being reasonably young, their youngest members still have two or three years on Jeongin. It shows, too, when we make it to the venue. Minseok is small for eighteen, but Jeongin is small for sixteen.

“Don’t worry too much,” I put an arm around his shoulder, walking him past the opposing team quickly. “It’s your first match, you’re going to be excellent.”

He nods absentmindedly, fiddling with his clothing. I look over my shoulder for a member, any member, and catch Woojin’s eye.  _ Help _ . I mouth. He comes quickly, taking over the ‘hyping up’ job. I break away from the two of them to join the rest of the members. 

Because it’s mandatory for everyone to be present at an event like this, Minho is with us. It’s been four days and a bit since evaluation and he’s finally able to stay conscious during the day. He  _ can _ walk on his own, because his legs aren’t the problem, but he’s tired as hell and still in so much blinding pain- despite the pills we finally managed to buy- that Hyunjin never leaves him on his own. Chan is with him too, currently providing support. 

Usually if I’m not fighting, the anxiety is at a middle level, worry for the others never making it a painless operation, but today is different. My hands shake as if it’s -30degrees out, and my heartbeat is out of control. Seungmin seems to notice, grasping my left hand in both of his. 

“Are you cold?” He rubs it quickly, creating friction.  _ I wish _ . I don't say anything, I just let him try to warm me. He rubs my arms and then my shoulders, then cups my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks together. “Better?”

“Definitely.” Satisfied, he walks away. I laugh, watching his back. He’s second youngest only to Jeongin and certainly knows how to brighten our days. Briefly, I forgot why we’re here or even where we are completely. It comes rushing back of course, but I’m thankful for the moments of happiness. Chan has broken away to talk to Hyojin.

He’s tall, slim like most people in this business, with a deep red hair colour. It’s not natural, of course. His body language radiates confidence, as we’re taught to, and so it’s obvious that he’s not actually as arrogant as he looks. You really learn to read people after a few years. 

My hands are shaking again, no amount of taught courage can make that go away. I watch Hyunjin and Woojin sit Minho down in a chair that’s be placed for him where we all will stand. The room is different from the training room, but very similar to where we’re evaluated. The floor is white, the walls, the windows. There are windows, but they’re completely plastered over. In the past, this place must’ve been used much differently. 

It occurs to me that I have no idea what other teams are fighting tonight. The schedule everyone gets only concerns their endeavors, and I know I didn’t  _ see _ anyone else from any other fighting groups.

Doesn’t mean they’re not here though, and as we’re rookies- both groups- it means we’re probably the ‘opening act’ for some much more experienced,  _ cooler _ , groups.

“Felix?” I whip around to see Changbin. “Dude I’ve been calling you for like five minutes.”

“Sorry-”

“Come, this shit is gonna start soon.” I look around, Jeongin is nowhere in sight. 

“He’s gone already?!”

“Yes? Where the fuck have you been the past two minutes?”  _ Right here _ . I follow him to stand beside the rest of our members and Chan joins us quickly after. Hyojin and his team are lined up on the same wall, and I eye them, looking each of them up and down. We’ve faced each other before, in fact, I’ve fought Hyojin himself.

Absolutely got crushed but that’s not important. 

The player missing from their lineup is Yuto, and I’m relieved to know he’s one of their youngest. Jeongin is actually well matched. I try to keep reminding myself that this is all entertainment, and that the goal isn’t to kill or even maim horribly. It’s just a show. Jeongin will do well. 

The arena is fashioned in a way that makes the watching of the fights for in-house viewers easy. The walls we stand against are only eight feet high, and flatten out like a plateau. On said flat ground are stands for about two hundred people to watch from an elevated space. Of course, the blood and gore is televised as well. 

I can see the people on top of the other wall across the room, but can’t see the ones directly behind me, although I know they’re there. 

Loud motherfuckers. 

JYP and Lee Wonmin, the face of WM, shake hands and take their seats close to the front of the room. An announcer begins the ceremonies. I block everything out of my head, her voice, the crowds, the cameras floating around, JYP’s smirk,  _ everything _ . Until Jeongin and Yuto make their entrance. They walk in together, like they’re supposed to. I wonder what they talked about before coming out. I always have the most interesting conversations with people before we have to fight. You’re completely alone with them for a solid five minutes and spending that in silence is something you get bored of quickly. But Jeongin is shy, I hope he was okay. 

I shake my head, almost wanting to laugh out loud at the thoughts that go through my head at the weirdest of times. 

They’re pretty much the same size height wise, and their weights don’t differ greatly either. Yuto is short with brown hair hanging limp on his forehead, and pretty brown eyes glisten beneath his bangs. The two of them come to stand in the middle, facing towards the company heads. 

Just like evaluations, this doesn’t end until they say so. But because this is so competitive, both judges have to agree on when the match can end. JYP can say it right off the bat, but it won’t be over until Wonmin agrees, which could be an hour later if the situation arises. Company heads will often spite each other by not giving in for as long as they can after their competition does, which mostly just results in graver injuries for us.

Yuto and Jeongin are young, though, they won’t let this go on too long. 

The crowd roars with laughter after the commentator makes a comment I neglected to hear, and Wonmin raises his hand for silence. It’s about to start. 

Yuto and Jeongin bow to the judges, then the audience, us, and finally each other. I made sure to nod encouragingly at Jeongin when he was turned my direction, but his eyes never met mine, glued to the floor. I take in a sharp breath. 

Like evaluations, these fights are fought with fists and two short, sharp blades. Jeongin pulls his little dagger from the sheath on his hip and drops into a low defensive stance. Already, in my eyes, that’s wrong. He should be offensive. ‘ _ Attack or be attacked’  _ JYP himself had said this to me as he pushed the tip of his own knife as hard as he could into my stomach without  _ stabbing _ me when he had had enough of watching us practice  _ not well enough _ . Never again did I start on the defensive, that shit hurt too much. 

“And so it begins!” It’s only just dawned on me how annoying this announcers voice is, as I’m truly hearing it for the first time now. It’s high pitched and too happy for an event like this, but there’s no time to be bitter. 

Yuto is dropped just as low, but his feet are spread so he can sprint at his opponent, and when he does, Jeongin is ready. Jeongin easily sidesteps and takes a swipe at the blurring body, missing, but it was a good try. I’m surprised, because already Jeongin is impressing me. 

He doesn’t wait for Yuto to restabilize, but instead runs while his back is turned, grabbing the boy in a choke hold. Yuto is stronger though, and the tables turn as quickly in his favor as Jeongin had grabbed him. He flings our youngest over his shoulder like he weighs nothing, and the breath is knocked from his body as he slams down. I swallow a scream. 

Yuto climbs on top of him, pinning down his arms with his knees. His knife isn’t in his hand and for a minute I’m confused about what he’s going to do.

Until the first few punches land. 

With every blow Jeongin does his best to wriggle free but Yuto is just too heavy for him. I watch in shock as Jeongin slowly stops fighting. Yuto stops when Jeongin does, one hand on his chest, the other on his throat, casually checking his pulse. He’s looking at the company heads, who are just looking back at him. We all know the feeling, staring into their pale, steely eyes, thinking  _ what the fuck do you want from us now? _ They never concede. 

Yuto stares longer than I would have, but knows its not gonna happen. The bastards aren’t gonna call it, it’s been less than five minutes. 

“Jeongin get up.” Changbin standing beside me has his fists clenched too tightly, and I’m afraid blood is going to flow from his palms any minute now. He whispers again and again to himself. I grab his fist, mostly just willing him to open it and I rub his palm with my thumb when he does. I’m just as terrified as he is, but he doesn’t have to know that. 

Yuto’s shoulders move up and down once, I’m assuming he sighed, and he pulls his knife from his hip again. I can’t remember when he had put it away. 

Yuto isn’t ready for Jeongin at all, who summons every bit of strength he has in him. He throws Yuto off in one heave and rolls away, standing up, his knife still in his hand. I cheer with the majority of the audience. Changbin yells too, squeezing my hand. 

Jeongin’s face and shirt are covered in blood, but he looks determined, and waits for Yuto to stand up. Yuto looks pleasantly surprised, and the two of them drop low to begin the fight again. Yuto jumps forward, probably expecting Jeongin to jump back, but instead he lashes out, catching Yuto in the chest. Jeongin rips through quickly, then kicks him onto the floor. Yuto goes down, coughing, blood beginning to flow from his chest freely. 

“Enough.” Wonmin’s voice booms over speakers. 

“The head of WM has voted to end the match!” The announcer’s shrill voice soon follows. Wonmin glares and Jinyoung, but Jinyoung stares straight ahead. The fights aren't finished until both company heads say so, in theory, one could say 'stop' thirty seconds in, but the other could wait ten minutes afterwards- although a ten minute fight is almost unheard of.

I can hear WM members stirring a few feet away, just as we were moments ago. I can’t help but feel bad, none of us choose this. 

At this point Yuto is just bleeding out on the floor. His hands are covered in blood as he tries to physically hold himself together. Jeongin comes forward slowly. He’s watched us so many times to know that he has to make it look like he’ll push it further. He drops down to his knees, straddling Yuto. He puts one small hand on his throat, beginning to block the airway. Yuto’s struggling is futile now, there’s no point. As he loses strength, and as the oxygen his body needs is slowly denied, he falls completely still. 

What a turn of events this is. 

“The WM player is unconscious! Will the fight end here?” Everyone’s attention is on JYP, and he likes the focus. If he said so, or lack thereof of saying anything, Jeongin would have to keep manipulating the dying boy. However, mercy falls upon them both.

“It’s over.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! More to come soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being here! I'll update the next chapter tomorrow, and hopefully update Nothing either tonight or tomorrow as well. I applied for a job today and I'm so nervous about it damn, but my day was hella eventful. I hope yours was good as well, and I hope you enjoy reading more of the story!

The crowd roars, jumping up. The company heads look starkly contrasted, Park smug and sated, Wonmin out for blood. Only when the rest of us make it to the center to deal with the mess can we see Jeongin’s shaking shoulders. Seungmin swoops in immediately, pulling him off, holding him tight and getting him out of view of  _ everyone _ as quickly as possible. Everyone else gathers around Yuto.

“Yu-yuto?” Wyatt, the member I know best, crouches next to him tentatively. “Where are the medics?” He looks around at all of us, eyes wide and full of fear. He touches the wound, so slick with blood and  _ it’s still coming _ . “What do we do?” He’s trying hard to keep his voice from cracking. Doesn’t quite work. 

“Take him to the side first-” Hyunjin suggests, but he’s cut off halfway through. 

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up.” Hyojin, who’s usually so mild, lashes out. “Get away from him, all of you.” He doesn’t have to ask us twice. The five of us timidly step back.

“Hyojin-” Chan tries to talk to his friend.

“I said get back.” His eyes are glued to his member on the floor.

The medics aren’t coming. The people are professionals, and they watch the fights like hawks, but they don’t come if the wound isn’t bad enough, or if it’s like-

_ Too _ bad.

It’s kind of obvious which side of that spectrum Yuto sits on.

The crowd has left the area, which is a small mercy. For them, the time between fights is an intermission. Place bets, collect what you’re owed, maybe even buy  _ snacks _ . I don’t see how anyone can watch this and have an appetite, but nonetheless I’ve discovered popcorn in my hair more than once. 

Guilt and pain and just pure  _ anger _ rip through my chest. Yuto is dying. 

It’s not Jeongin’s fault. It’s not Yuto’s fault. It’s not mine, or Hyojin’s or Chan’s for failing to train their members. 

Jeongin’s first damn fight and he’s a killer. My heart breaks a little bit further. 

“Hey, U, it’s gonna be okay, huh?” All of the WM members are crowding him. Wyatt is doing what he can to slow the bleeding. That’s all it is, one stupid cut, and it’s going to kill him. I curse our fragile bodies for failing him. 

“I’m so sorry,” Minseok is holding his friend’s hand, trying not to cry. There’s not much to say as my team watches theirs. There’s no going near him for us.

For just one second,  _ one _ , I’m glad it’s Yuto and not Jeongin down there. And then I hate myself. 

Wyatt scoops Yuto up off the ground, and by the way he’s no longer holding the laceration, I think the worst has happened. My heart drops into the floor and I feel like I’m going to vomit.

“Oh my god-” I turn away as they walk past me. “No-” They don’t say a thing. Nothing. Just like that. It’s over for him. 

I’ve never seen anyone die before. In all my time in this business, not once. Not a kid. 

And it was because of Jeongin. Chan tries again.

“Hyojin,” He reaches out as the team leader walks past him, but Hyojin rips his arm away. I would too, but it still hurts. 

Hyojin takes in a breath that makes it obvious he’s trying not to snap. How he’s so calm, reserved,  _ composed _ at a time like this is amazing and beyond a personality I wish I could pull off. He shakes his head, but says nothing, and exits with his brothers. 

“He  _ died _ ?” Woojin looks at each of us as we all stand in stunned silence. 

“He’s not dead.” The voice comes from behind me and I spin around, face to face with someone I know only a little. “Not yet at least.” Minkyun is only a foot away from me. 

Relief crashes over me like waves on a beach in a hurricane. Minkyun looks at the floor, then back up at us. 

“He should be fine.” He struggles to keep his voice level, to keep it from cracking, and I feel it’s appropriate to hug him. He doesn’t throw me off like Hyojin might have. 

“We’re sorry,” I say into his shoulder. He hugs me back, knowing that I mean it. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“If he’s okay where are the medics, they need-” Chan speaks evenly but Minkyun cuts him off.

“The others went to find them.” He assures. “It’s just one cut. Where’s Jeongin?” We all know he’s downplaying it, but the fact that  _ he’s _ trying to make  _ us _ feel better is so backwards. I shake my head.

“Seungmin took him somewhere.” I say, because I truly have no idea where they went. Changbin stands behind me, hand on my shoulder. 

“I see.” Minkyun says. He sighs heavily. “Who’s next?” He asks. My stomach churns anxiously. My eyes flit to Chan. I’m not going to say jack shit, this is his fight.

Chan swallows, but steps forward confidently. 

“Jeongin.” Silence befalls us.

“Sorry I meant  _ this _ coming round-” 

“I know.”

“Excuse me?” Woojin speaks up from the back, facial expression mirroring Minkyun’s. I keep my eyes exactly where they are; on the ground. Minkyun takes a step back from me to face Chan better. His fingers curl inward slightly in a manner that suggests he’s quite distressed.

“What do you mean he’s going again?” It’s unheard of. Completely. As illegal and unethical as fighting is, we still have rules. Rules like no one can fight twice in a row because chances are they’ll get killed. Chan swallows again.

“I mean that he’s going again.” He says, simply restating Minkyun’s question in the form of a statement. “To get Minho out-” He addresses everyone. “We had to make a decision. It was the only way.” 

“We?”

Chan realizes what he’s said. 

“No- I made the decision, Felix was there but-” Chan tries to work backwards, but no one is having it. I can feel their stares begin to bore into me.  _ Oh my god- _

“Felix you knew about this?” Changbin’s hand leaves my shoulder and the air is cold where he used to warm it. I turn around slowly. Every single one of my members is looking at me, waiting. 

What am I supposed to say? I was there when the decision was made, I didn’t make it, but I let it happen.

And I didn’t say anything about it either. I think that’s what hurts them the most. 

“I didn’t know what to say-” I don’t mention that Chan almost gave me a concussion as a threat, or that I had absolutely no say. There’s really no excuse for me. If I could do it all again I would have spoken up. 

I can hear Changbin’s breathing pick up, I can literally feel his  _ resentment _ leaching into my skin.  _ Please not you- _ The feeling only gets worse, the pain, the utter disappointment squeezing the breath out of me. 

“ _ You really knew? _ ” Changbin takes a step towards me, lowering his voice so low only I can hear it. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin, and I turn my head so I don’t look him in the eye. I know I can’t step backwards, Minkyun is right there, and there’s nowhere to turn away. 

“I did.” I say quietly. I know if I say anymore he’ll probably hit me, and I deserve it, but I stay quiet anyways. He takes in a breath, then pushes past me, knocking into my shoulder as he leaves. I stagger slightly, but I’m relieved, that’s the least amount of damage he could’ve inflicted. 

“I offered to fight instead.” Chan says. “But our manager said it wasn’t an option. It was either Minho fights in his condition, or Jeongin goes twice.” The boys listen to what he has to say, but it doesn't make the situation any better. Minkyun purses his lips.

“Just tell him not to kill me,” He says. “And I’ll take it easy.” The boy turns from us to find his members. I watch him go, and then turn to Chan.

“We have to tell Jeongin.” He says, a deathly acidic tone to his voice. “He fights in less than twenty minutes.”  

“He doesn’t know yet?” Hyunjin has been quiet, standing with Minho to keep him from keeling over. It’s obvious Minho feels awful, physically and in his heart. I know he doesn’t want Jeongin to fight again, none of us do. No one wants to see him that terrified for a second time in one day. 

Chan shakes his head. 

The only problem with planning the fight the way we just did, Minkyun stating he won’t be too aggressive, is that that’s exactly what the people don’t want. People want ruthless, cunning, no mercy, pain and agony. They don’t want to watch a careful draw with no loser. 

And because of a fight’s ability to be completely unpredictable, no one will know when the heads will call it, and if the boys aren’t aggressive-

They won’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the second fight of the evening- who's going to come out on top?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned on updating this morning but couldn't finish writing the chapter last night I feel really bad for taking this long I'm sorryyyy

I follow my team out of the main room. With us out of the way, a cleaning crew rushes to the center to mop up the blood in preparation for round two. The feeling in my gut only worsens as we leave. Maybe if we stayed they never would’ve cleaned and  _ therefore,  _ there’d be no fight.

Wishful thinking. 

We head down a maze of hallways, knowing that Seungmin probably took Jeongin to the most private place in the building, or at least as far from cameras, prying eyes and angry opponents as he could. 

Minho and Hyunjin move a lot slower than the rest of us, which is to be expected of course. 

“Go ahead,” Hyunjin says. “We’ll make it eventually.” At this moment in time they stop for a breather. Minho’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths and pangs shoot through my own when it’s evident he’s not getting better yet. Hyunjin is doing everything he can, but it might be time to hand Minho over to the capable hands of the staff in the company.

It sounds like a brilliant idea, and I’m sure you’re thinking ‘why the hell didn’t you guys do that in the first place?’, but that is not the case. Just the appointment alone costs us money we don’t have, and any pills, work,  _ surgery _ \- that’s extra. That’s shit we  _ definitely _ can’t afford. 

If we can’t pay the company back, we pay in different ways.

Hyunjin looks at Minho, whose eyes are closed. I watch him scan his face, and for the first time I’m seeing something I haven’t had to see before, and it terrifies me.

Hyunjin is scared. He’s lost. He has no idea what to do now.

That means we’re really screwed. 

“Felix-” Woojin grabs my wrist and pulls me along with Chan. I snap out of negativity. Minho is going to be fine. We always are. 

We take another left turn and I’m convinced for sure that we’re lost, but as soon as I make the assumption, Seungmin, Changbin and Jeongin are right in front of us. 

Seungmin’s sleeves are covered in blood, Jeongin’s of course, as he tries to clean him up. Jeongin’s face is a mess still but Seungmin has made wonderful progress. Changbin stands against the wall, watching the two of them. He ignores us as we show up, probably because the party is made up of two people he’s quite mad at- myself included. 

“Jeongin-” Chan starts.

“I know.” The boy wipes his cheek again with his own sleeve, dispelling more blood. “I know.” Chan narrows his eyes.

“I told him.” Changbin says. 

“And I assumed, as well,” Jeongin says quietly. “When you said Minho wasn’t going to fight,” That was days ago, why didn’t he ask? “It only made sense to me that if you didn’t give us a replacement name that there wasn’t one. At least not one you wanted to say out loud.” Ouch. I know Chan felt that one. 

“Jeongin I’m sorry-” He reaches out, taking his little wrist in his hand. Jeongin looks up at him with his fennec fox eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” He says simply. “Don’t.”  _ I know my place. _ He seems to think.  _ I know what I need to do _ . 

“We need to go.” Woojin says quietly. “The match starts soon.” He’s not trying to rush anything, he’s purely just reminding us of what’s to come. I breathe in, closing my eyes. My body only screams to fall apart louder and louder with every passing minute. Jeongin nods, instigating the walk back. 

We don’t pass Minho and Hyunjin, but the thought doesn’t occur to any of us, too wrapped up in what we’re about to walk our maknae back into. 

_ There was no other way. _ I wish I had pushed during the phone call, taken the receiver and stated that; ‘I’m sorry. Jeongin will not be fighting twice, I will take his place.’ I wish I had been a better protector.  _ What kind of brother am I? _

When we reach the main room again I’m reminded that we are indeed missing two members. 

“Fuck-” I look around, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Why would they be?

“What’s wrong, Felix?” Chan asks. I shake my head.

“Where’s Minho and Hyunjin?” The others raise eyebrows, realizing. Woojin shrugs, trying to play it all down. We really do worry too much. 

“The bathroom I guess.” The rest of us take a deep breath. Sure. It doesn’t matter right now, because the crowd is beginning to file back in, and we know we need to take our places against the wall. Jeongin says goodbye, and he leaves to go prepare. Again. 

“It’s not the end of the world.” Changbin’s soft voice surprises me. He’s pressed up close so only I can hear what he’s saying. “It’s not your fault, and this is all just entertainment. We’ll laugh about how strong he is in a few hours, he’ll have something to brag about to all the ladies.” I laugh a little. I know he’s talking about Jeongin.

“Two fights in one day. He’s a legend.” 

Changbin’s hand on my back is a familiar feeling, and one that I was afraid would slowly become a memory based on his anger from earlier. But he seems to have come down from that now, and as much as I know it is still my fault, he’s forgotten that detail and I’m thankful for that. 

The company heads come back in, Wonmin is still seething. 

Woojin shifts beside me anxiously. 

“That’s not good.” He whispers. I purse my lips, nodding in agreement. Hyojin’s team files in behind them, and joins us against the wall- without Minkyun and Yuto. That’s not great either, the fact that Yuto is missing, but honestly what did we expect. 

I can hear the crowd beginning to form again, and the hair on the back of my neck stands, chilled by the many voices. I wonder what kind of lives they lead outside of their illegal hobby of attending events like these. I’m sure some are lowlifes, but others must be respectable, or respectable in theory of course. Anyone showing up in hear is far from deserving any esteem.

This includes me though. I like to think it doesn’t, I like to think that the money I make (not very much I’ll tell you that) being sent home to my family excuses me from what I do. 

It doesn’t. 

The announcer with the painful voice is back, excited and annoying. She speaks words I ignore very promptly, because I’ve heard variations of the same thing so many times.  _ Here we go! Ready for round two ladies and gentlemen? _ The crowd usually roars after that statement.  _ Let’s introduce our fighters!  _ It’s all the same, every damn time. 

I think about how when we get home, granted Jeongin isn’t  _ killed _ , I’m going to need to go to our manager for permission to go get us some food. We’re almost out because he denied us last time, saying we should focus on our training not trying to find excuses to go outside.

We’ve been living off bananas and four packs of instant ramen for a week. I think that maybe he’ll let me go when he realizes we have literally nothing left now and we’ll very likely starve in a few days. 

The fighting industry has some of the biggest money in it I’ve heard people say, funny how we see none of it. 

When Jeongin enters inside the crowd is completely silent.  _ They’ve _ never seen the same kid fight twice either, and they’re just as dumbfounded as we were. Someone begins cheering, causing everyone else to pick that up as well, but the surprise is clear. 

Jeongin looks composed, but I can tell he’s really trying. He’s tired, and there’s a look in his eye that tells me he’s given up.  _ Not yet,  _ I want to tell him, _ don’t do that _ . He’s going to be fantastic. When he glances over at us, I nod as encouragingly as possible, flashing my eyes. He gives me a half smile back, but his posture straightens out and his hands cease to shake. 

Minkyun enters just after, and the crowd cheers for him too. He walks with poise and little fear; he’s more experienced, energized and bigger than his opponent for sure. 

He lacks the quality I thought he’d carry with him though. I thought he’d look a lot like Chan, or Minho at our evaluation.  _ Afraid _ to do damage. Maybe it’s for the crowd but Minkyun doesn’t look afraid at all.

I think the announcer tells a joke because people laugh, and the company heads make themselves comfortable, and Jeongin and Minkyun turn to face each other and it happens  _ so quickly _ . I want it to slow down, I need the second hand on the clock to lessen its rhythm so I can breathe. 

_ Seven minutes tops and it’s over. _ I think, but I’m immediately reminded of when I spoke like this to Changbin at evaluations.

Shit doesn’t always go as planned. 

They bow, and they begin.

To the world this is only a few minutes. It’s two people entertaining a crowd and nothing else. To them, when one fight ends another begins. It’s not a big deal.

But to us each fight could be our last, and I’m never able to shake that feeling from my limbs or the paralysis from my lungs when I think about fighting. It doesn’t matter how many times you do it, 

It never becomes natural. 

Minkyun lunges as soon as it begins, and Jeongin sidesteps his blow. He twirls the knife in his hand, just waiting. He’s tentative, probably because he’s afraid of feeling the blade rip through flesh again. 

That’s partially why we don’t fight twice, also because it’s exhausting, but a person performs better if they’ve forgotten the heat of fresh blood or what the sting of a hit feels like. Jeongin has already been scarred today, so he knows what’s coming, and moves like he’s avoiding it. 

I don’t blame him of course, but I know the crowds and the heads will quickly get bored. 

Minkyun knows this too, and he also knows the quicker this gets bloody, the quicker it will be over. He watches where Jeongin steps as the boy pedals backwards, and when he’s in midstep Minkyun jumps, and quite obviously Jeongin isn’t prepared for the movement. Minkyun sends him sprawling on his stomach to the floor and I cringe when his kneecaps connect, cracking. The sound itself is painful. 

Jeongin recovers quickly, switching his knife to the other hand but he isn’t able to stand fast enough. Minkyun towers over him and Jeongin barely has time to roll away before his blade connects with the floor. I can’t help but gasp because with the amount of force Minkyun had put behind it had it hit him the knife would’ve cut straight through, a very serious stab wound. 

“Gentle-” I breathe. One can’t be gentle in these situations but my point is made. Jeongin pushes himself to his feet now, but I can tell he fucked his knees up badly when he went down the first time, and he tries to hide a limp as he jumps at Minkyun, who's ready for him. 

He uses his free hand to stop Jeongin in mid air, as if he weighs nothing, and using his momentum he shoves him into the floor so powerfully more than just the breath is knocked from Jeongin’s lungs. 

Minkyun wastes no time either, and I’m genuinely shocked with what I’m seeing. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I assumed he’d show more mercy. This is not the case.

Not in the least. 

Jeongin can’t do anything,  _ anything _ , as Minkyun’s blade starts to tear at his skin. He cries out in agony, blood pouring from his right wrist and the further Minkyun pushes his limits the worse it gets. He moves on from his arm, but instead of letting him recover or fight or show any of the sympathy I thought he was supposed to show he drags his knife over to Jeongin’s stomach. 

On the sidelines, Jinyoung, who is always impossible to read, is an openbook. The tension is at its highest, and if it wasn’t real people pulling each other apart letting the fight go on would be truly entertaining, but it’s a sixteen year old kid about to lose his life, and even Park Jinyoung knows when enough is enough.

“Stop.” He says. The announcer echoes his wishes, Jeongin has lost.

But it’s Wonmin’s turn now to destroy Park’s player, and that means he isn’t going to agree. He nods at Minkyun to keep going, and the boy doesn’t hesitate. 

His knife slides into our boy’s body to the hilt.

Effortlessly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, good times.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter before I go to bed, I'll update tomorrow, thank you for being here.

I’m not quite sure who screams first. I don’t know if it’s me, or if it’s Woojin, or Changbin or Chan. I don’t know. And it doesn’t fucking matter.

We all  _ do _ . 

I can hear Jeongin’s groan of pain from fifteen feet away and I see his crimson blood flow freely from his veins and I can  _ see _ the silver hilt of the knife standing upright in his stomach. I can see it all. 

Woojin starts running. I’m too stunned to move and Chan yells at him to stop, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t stop until he’s barreled into Minkyun and ripped him off our brother. Minkyun tries to defend himself, but doesn’t need to for very long before two large officers have swooped in. They use electric sticks I didn’t know they carried to knock Woojin out completely and drag him away. 

The crowd is in an uproar and I have an out of body experience listening to them. They yelled when Jeongin was stabbed, but the yelling only grew louder with the appearance of Woojin, then the stunning, and then the removal. I can’t tell if they’re happy or sad. Crowds always sound the same to me. 

Jeongin is motionless on the floor. Completely. And before the rest of us are able to make a move the way Woojin did, a whole lineup of officers have descend on our small group. They’re trying to take us out of the space, but I don’t understand this. I only understand Jeongin. I only understand how the human body works and that if no one stops his bleeding then he himself will stop existing. 

That’s all I understand. 

So when I fight they hit me, and when I don’t back down they hit me again and again till my legs crap out and my vision right after.

Nothing hurts worse than watching Jeongin disappear in front of me, because no matter how hard I fight for consciousness, my body doesn’t concede. 

_ Jeongin _ . 

_ Has it been seven minutes yet? _

 

“You need to understand that they lost someone recently-” The man in front of me paces and I find it very difficult to keep completely still in my chair. “You weren’t originally a replacement, Han, but it’s going to look like that to them now.” I swallow.  _ I know _ . 

This is not how I wanted to show up.

I wanted to make a good impression on them. I wanted to meet them all and be their friend and eventually their brother and to fight beside them and  _ for _ them. 

It doesn’t matter how I present myself, or what I say, or when I show up because now they’ll only see me as one thing;

A replacement. An imposter. 

I’m not supposed to be there, not like this. 

I don’t want to be that to them. I want to be a source of strength, but I know that they’ll look at me with disgust. I  _ know _ it. 

“Do you have any other questions?” The man pauses in front of the window on the right wall of the room. Though the sky is pitch dark the glow of the city washes in, casting a long shadow behind him that engulfs me. I’ve never liked the dark. 

“When do I get to meet them, sir?”

He doesn’t bother looking at me or even turning around. He folds his hands behind his back, gazing at the sky. 

“Tonight.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “As soon as you’re ready.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jisung making appearances lets go sorry for making Jisung stans wait so long to finally see him oops~ Also I'm hinting to you now that it's not what you might think...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fight me please I know Jeongin is seventeen now technically but when I started writing this fic it was before they even debuted and he was sixteen so I have to keep consistent therefore he is sixteen in this universe thank you for coming to my ted talk
> 
> In other news I tried to buy BTS tickets for the Hamilton show and failed :'( AND I procrastinated a ton of school work which caused me to not be able to update this story till now I'm sorryyyy

I take a deep breath, standing outside the door of the dorm, hands shaking uncontrollably. What was supposed to be an exciting occasion is now one of anxiety and fear of the unknown. I’ve almost given up on them liking me at all, and I know that as civil as I hope they’ll be, it’s going to take a while to get on someone’s,  _ anyone’s _ , good side. 

It’s not like  _ I _ killed him-

I immediately regret that thought. I reach up, not giving myself time to overthink this anymore, and I knock. 

And I consider knocking again when thirty seconds passes and no one answers, but as I pull up my wrist to try, it opens. 

“Yes?” I’m taken aback by the man who answers it. He’s about my height, with brown eyes and dark hair. I try to collect myself quickly. 

“Hello- I’m Han Jisung?” Unfortunately I seem to ask a question instead of state who I am, but the guy only laughs at my failure to be confident, and opens the door further. 

“We didn’t know when you were coming.” He says, closing it behind me when I make it inside. I’m not quite sure what to say so only an awkward noise escapes me, though the guy doesn’t seem to mind.

“My name is Hyunjin.” The boy with the dark hair shuffles around me when I stop in the middle of the living room. He looks around as if his next words are floating in the air somewhere. “Um-” He meets my eyes. “How much do you know about us?” He shrugs his shoulders, and I appreciate him. Not anything specific, just the fact that he hasn’t yelled at me or said anything cold. So far I’m off to a good start. 

But I suddenly realize it’s my turn to talk, and the elephant in the room is screaming my name even though I  _ know _ I can’t lead with  _ that _ of all things. 

“You’re amazing fighters.” I say before I can think of something better, and this isn’t a lie either. I’ve seen them on more than one occasion, and every single fight has been something spectacular, regardless of whether they won or lost. Hyunjin laughs though, scoffing. 

“I meant-” He pauses. “I don't know what I meant.” I laugh because I feel it’s appropriate and because I’m trying to loosen up. “I can give you a rundown on how we work here.” He nods his head towards the couch and I ignore the bloodstains on both the coffee table and cushions alike. It’s nothing I’m not used to, my last house was covered in the stale ruby splotches too. We sit and I try to force down the new anxiety rising up in me, something I had forgotten for a solid two minutes. If I’ve only met one of them- where are the other six? 

“Jisung you know you fight with us tomorrow, right?” I nod, snapping back to reality. He takes in a deep breath. “Okay,” He pulls out a piece of paper from a back pocket. “You’re going to be brand new to the audience-”

“I’m not.” I surprise myself with the simple words. I hadn’t planned on saying them, and Hyunjin’s shocked look mirrors my own. “I mean, I’m not actually- new to them.” 

“Oh,” He puts the paper back, intrigued. “You were a fighter before us then?” By ‘us’ he must mean joining the team. I nod my head, knowing now I have to explain.

But explaining where I come from is a solid no. A no from myself, a no from Park Jinyoung himself and a no from my former teammates. We don’t talk about it. 

“Recreationally.” I lie. “Casually. For money here and there.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I’m surprised you saw any of it.” But he laughs it off and I’m relieved he pushes no further. “Regardless, you’ve never fought on  _ our _ team before, and people will be very interested in you.” I nod along with what he’s saying until he says something I’ve been waiting for him to say but dreading with my entire begin. “Unfortunately they’ll think you’re purely a replacement.”

The mood in the entire space is shifted from lighthearted and airy to heavy and dark. I lick my lips anxiously but I make sure not to nod. I don’t know whether holding his gaze is respectful or not, and I don’t know if letting my eyes drift to the floor is a good move or a bad one. I opt to keep my eyes where they are. He continues.

“You’re not, obviously. We knew about you before we lost-” He breathes in sharply. I know he doesn’t need to finish the sentence for me to understand and he knows this too. He doesn’t. Suddenly he stands up. “There are members to meet- not everyone is home right now but you might as well introduce yourself to those who are.” I stand as well and we sidestep the coffee table carefully. He talks to me while we exit the room, but I have no idea where exactly we’re headed.

“I’m the unofficial medic on the team,” He explains. “Unofficial because if I made it official it’d be too much responsibility-” This is a joke I don’t miss the opportunity to laugh at. We both know he is very much the  _ official  _ healer. Jinyoung told me all about their dynamics and how impressed he is with Hyunjin’s medical skills. “Chan is the leader. He makes decisions and shit I guess. I don’t really know what Woojin does.” We stop in front of the second door on the right and Hyunjin knocks quietly before pushing it open. He’s detached from our conversation, which is fine by me, as he enters the room first.

Ten bunks are stacked along the walls two high, and the room has open space in the center. This must be where everyone sleeps. Hyunjin glances around, and looks back at me with a look I can’t quite place. I’m beginning to now feel like an intruder, like an outsider for the first time, as I enter in quietly behind him. 

Hyunjin walks to the first bunk and steps on the bottom one, seeing over the side of the top one. 

“Felix-” I hear him whisper.  _ Oh my god they’re _ _sleeping_. The anxiety only gets worse. It feels wrong to be here. So wrong. I want to back out, I want to say ‘thanks but I’ll come back later.’ I don’t want to make them feel vulnerable or unsafe. Hyunjin hops off the bed silently, carefully hitting the ground without a sound, something that’s bred into our blood from years of stepping lightly. He moves on to another bed, passing by one. He leaves that one asleep. 

The kid who I’m assuming is Felix sits up, rubbing his eyes but not looking surprised to see an unfamiliar face. Hyunjin must have told him I was here. 

“Hello,” His accent is foreign, but not thick, and he climbs out of bed as silently as Hyunjin had jumped. His hair is mussed from sleep and he pulls a sweater over his head, only making it worse. 

Hyunjin has summoned two others from the dead by the time Felix has made it down the ladder, and the four of them come to stand in front of me, a little disoriented but nonetheless present. 

“Jisung,” Hyunjin introduces us. “This is Felix, Changbin and Seungmin.” Each boy waves when his name is called, and I bow slightly, introducing myself back. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Changbin says, his voice is gravely from sleep and I suddenly feel bad for showing up so late in the evening. The others echo his statement and I’m genuinely taken aback. I thank them. Suddenly, Hyunjin seems to remember something.

“Shit-” He turns around and the other boys part like the Red Sea for me to see the bed Hyunjin had skipped. Someone, a very small someone, is lying in it, but based on the amount of medical supplies littering the area I can safely assume he’s nowhere near simply resting like the others. “That’s Jeongin. Our youngest-” I step closer with the other boys. 

My brows furrow naturally because the picture is so unnatural. How old can he be? Fifteen? Sixteen? He’s bruised and he’s broken and very obviously his mangled body covered in further wounds is hidden beneath blankets. 

I heard about this too, this and the death of another member. I was told how the kid is a legend, how he took on two fights. He won the first one, and no one expected him to win the second. That fight wasn’t a matter of winning, it was a matter of surviving.

And he  _ did _ . That’s worth more than winning a match.

“He looks worse than he is  _ I  _ think.” Felix says, smoothing the kid’s hair. He doesn’t stirr. “He’s strong, he’ll come out of the worst of it soon.”

“He’s been comatose for 42 hours.” Seungmin says so low that only I can hear. My blood runs cold. “Felix is hanging on to bullshit  _ I _ think.” 

Hyunjin, Seungmin and I leave the room shortly after, leaving Changbin and Felix to sit with Jeongin. I can’t get the scene from my mind, how small and sick he looked, but I know that this is not my struggle. If I’m going to be of any support to them at all I need to be strong, which means I can’t fall prey to the fear of losing the kid. 

“Have you talked about it yet?” Seungmin asks us when we head into their little kitchen. Hyunjin pulls out three glasses from the cupboard and turns on the tap, letting it run.

“We’ve talked about his fight yes-” Hyunjin says, glancing at me.

“Not that.” Seungmin’s eyes flash. I haven’t been present to know what he’s like normally, but the kid is intense tonight, he has something specific he wants Hyunjin to say, and it seems like he’ll show no mercy until he says it.

Hyunjin picks up the first glass, holding it under the running water until it fills, placing it down and then beginning on the next one. With his back turned,  _ purposefully _ , he states that he does not, in fact, have any idea what Seungmin might mean.

“ _Minho_ , hyung. Have you talked about Minho?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being here, more updates to come


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~ thank you for being here

“Hyunjin.” All he did was say my name. He waited until the others had disappeared down the hallway, before just staring at me. His eyes were foggy, something I was used to seeing at that point, but his voice was something brand new, something weak and as thin a spider’s silk. I took his hand then, I knew what he wanted.

“It’s okay.” I said to him. My mind was screaming otherwise, but I forced silence upon it, knowing panic was going to help no one. 

As he breathed his chest rattled like an empty cage in high winds, rusty bars and broken ribs mirroring each other perfectly. Each breath was a struggle, and in the harsh light of the hallway of the Fight House I could see the sick green of an infection spread across his skin. “Are you okay?” It seemed like a dumb question to ask, but honestly all Minho wanted in his last hours was to be treated like everyone else, not special, not sick, not dying. And you tend to ask people if they’re okay all the time, and they get the freedom to choose what to tell you.

“ _ Fantastic _ .” He whispered. I had squeezed his hand in that moment, but he was too weak to squeeze back. I knew it was bad when he couldn’t hold my hand. 

“We need a doctor.” I said to him. “A real one.”

“You’re all we need-”

“No someone who can help you.”  _ I can’t help you _ . We needed to get out, and so I half carried half dragged him back the way we came. There were medics there, I knew that, and our best bet- because I thought he was fading- was finding them. Single handedly, I brought us to the very room I wanted to avoid. The cleaning crew was still inside the arena from the first fight, trying to scrape bits of Yuto and Jeongin from the floor.  _ Nasty- _

“Just hold on a little longer-” I said to him as we stopped for another break by the entrance to the space. I had absolutely no idea where the medics stayed between games, but I remembered with a sick feeling in my gut that they were with Yuto, wherever the hell Yuto might’ve been. “The locker room-” I was thinking out loud, and Minho had run out of the strength to bounce ideas off of. I couldn’t even be sure he processed anything I said. “Let’s go,” I pulled him back into me, ignoring my weary limbs. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I had only been in the locker room three times before, because we tend to not need them. We come in what we’re fighting in, we fight, and we probably leave in stretchers. No locker room anywhere in there. 

My memory serves me well enough to get us lost in a maze of hallways.

“Oh my god-” We came across a dead end for the fourth time and I wanted to scream in frustration. Minho couldn’t even stand anymore, and we sank down the nearest wall together. 

I was exhausted, absolutely  _ drained _ . Minho knew this, and he stayed quiet.

That’s what killed him  _ I  _ think.

He didn’t tell me when breathing got too laborious, and he didn’t tell me when he was unable to feel his limbs. I was clueless until almost the very end, wrapped in my own terrifying world, worrying we’d never make it to a doctor. Not knowing that we weren’t going to need one.

“Hyunjin.” He did it a again. Nothing but my name, that’s it. He didn’t say anything afterwards, but I was snapped to reality and forced my tired body to gather itself so I could tend to him. 

“I know.” I took his pulse- dangerously slow, and his breathing was shallow beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. “Hyung?” It had become apparent in those moments what was happening. “Hyung-” I scrambled around, looking for something on my person or his person or  _ anything _ at all that could help us in this situation. “No no no no-” My eyes were wider than the sea and just as insane.

Minho’s body was relentless. It failed him. It took the boy trapped inside and forced his voice away, forced his will, his strength, everything. 

“ _ Thank you, Hyunjin _ .” His voice was full of holes, like moths had eaten through it.

Infection took Minho promptly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told ya'll this was the last chapter I lied I'll be back working on this one in a few days when I finish Nothing, thank you for being here


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't a real chapter, it's kind of a teaser lmao? if that makes sense? I'm here to let you guys know that this story isn't forgotten and I'm working on it but I'm just not posting until Nothing is done, but because I'm almost finished there I thought I'd give you something now to remind everyone this one still exists :') I feel so bad for making you wait so long, but I promise I'll be back here soon <3
> 
> I'm also so nervous about posting this because I know people have expectations so I'm stressing that it isn't a full chapter and I'll produce much better in the future!!

They rested for only a few days, and Felix's solo fight was rescheduled, a small mercy. They spent these hours locked up in the house, with nothing to do but think.

Think too much in Woojin's opinion. 

Minho’s death is more than a shock. It’s more than an accident. It’s more than a side effect. 

It’s everyone’s worst nightmare.

It’s the fear they didn’t know they even had.

It was over before it even started, it was over before Hyunjin could stand up, before he could scream for help, before anyone with any power had even the chance to ignore him. It was over.

Alone, afraid, feeling _ betrayed,  _ by himself and his skills, Hyunjin had to struggle with the reality; he just witnessed _ death. _ Minho fucking died _. _

Try explaining that to your brothers.

 

Nobody took it well, why would they, and perhaps Changbin took it the hardest.

It’s his fault, after all.

But Hyunjin hurts too. Hyunjin believes that maybe, if he had been on top of things, just maybe he could’ve saved his brother. Hyunjin believes that maybe if he was more skilled, if he had tried harder, just maybe Minho would have lived. He thinks that if he had had the painkillers, the stress of the operation would have been less on his brother, and just maybe the extra energy could have pulled him through.

Just maybe.

Chan disagrees, Chan blames himself. 

If he were a better leader. If he had tried harder. If he had rebelled against Jinyoung when Changbin was forced to go _ further. _ Further than they’ve ever had to go _. _

None of that resonates with the very same strength Felix’s guilt does, not in the slightest. Felix regrets saying nothing the day Minho was hurt. Felix stood there.

He let it happen. 

He’s never going to forget the way it sounded.

Woojin might miss him the most, though. He misses the way they’d talk late into the night, just the two of them, so late that exhaustion would still weigh on his limbs the next day. He misses the way Minho would fall asleep on the couch, half leaning on Woojin’s shoulder. It meant Woojin couldn’t move. It meant he couldn’t sleep or adjust or even  _ breathe _ with too much force.

Woojin never cared then. He _ definitely _ doesn’t now.

He’d give anything to wake up tired.

Jeongin feels the absence. He feels the way Minho isn’t in the bunk just across the room, and he feels the way something vital is missing. A pillar. A brother. A friend.

Gone. Fucking gone.

Seungmin is the only one who’s scared.

He’s scared of fighting. He’s scared of death. He’s scared of time. Afraid of it all. Terrified.

He’s scared of a name, a name on a page. He’s scared of the way it looks, the way it takes up space. He’s scared of how it’s written, as if they should know this person, as if they’ve been friends all their lives. He’s scared of how it _is_. Just scared.

He’s afraid that as time marches onwards, this new name is going to take Minho’s place. They have always been eight, always, but will it ever feel like nine? Will  _ Jisung _ make Seungmin’s brothers forget? Will their number stay the same, never growing, because Minho will be forgotten? That’s what scares him the most.

Seungmin is afraid of losing. Afraid of losing who he loves. He’s afraid of the way that memories fade, the way that they shatter and break and bend and twist and he’s afraid that Jisung is going to make the hyungs forget.

Jisung is not Minho.

Jisung will _ never _ be Seungmin’s brother.

Never.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> each member feels something, whether it's fear or it's anger or it's hatred, and it will play into the story to come. Thank you for reading, sorry there will still be a wait but if you're still with me ilysmmmm <3 (ps it's so late I hope the editing was okay I read it over and everything so I'm so sorry if the quality was ruined by typos or mistakes tired eyes might have missed <3)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you talked about it yet?” Seungmin asks us when we head into their little kitchen. Hyunjin pulls out three glasses from the cupboard and turns on the tap, letting it run.
> 
> “We’ve talked about his fight yes-” Hyunjin says, glancing at me.
> 
> “Not that.” Seungmin’s eyes flash. I haven’t been present to know what he’s like normally, but the kid is intense tonight, he has something specific he wants Hyunjin to say, and it seems like he’ll show no mercy until he says it.
> 
> Hyunjin picks up the first glass, holding it under the running water until it fills, placing it down and then beginning on the next one. With his back turned, purposefully, he states that he does not, in fact, have any idea what Seungmin might mean.
> 
> “Minho, hyung. Have you talked about Minho?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suggest because it's been so long that you go back a few chapters (at LEAST to the Jisung one) if you want this to connect better. Sorry this took so long, I've had it written for a while but didnt want to post until I finished other works but I also don't like leaving people hanging for so long so :')
> 
> Enjoy, this are only going to get more wild from here

The kitchen falls silent immediately and very carefully, his back still turned, Hyunjin places the glass he had been filling down onto the counter. It clinks against it, the only noise in the space, and I cringe away from how sharp it sounds. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, Seungmin’s gaze like lightning electrifying the air. 

Hyunjin’s shoulders look tense, as if he’s holding onto too much. He looks up at the ceiling, placing both hands on the sink and pushing against it, looking into the air above him as if  the right response is hidden within the empty. He closes his eyes, and then he opens them up again, sighing heavily. All the while, I stand pressed up against the wall, and Seungmin’s eyes are trained on Hyunjin’s back. 

It’s like Seungmin  _ wants  _ Hyunjin to be angry, as if he  _ wants  _ him to snap. For the whole twenty minutes I’ve known Hyunjin, however, he doesn’t seem to be that kind of person.

Not with the way Jinyoung talks about him either.

“I’m sure Jisung knows about that Seungmin.” He says slowly, with his neck still bent backwards. I nod very gently, and suddenly that electricity is being forced onto  _ me. _

“Do you?” Seungmin speaks like his words are daggers, and he does a  _ very _ good job at jabbing into me. It almost physically hurts. I swallow hard and Hyunjin turns around very gingerly to watch me intently too, probably relieved that Seungmin is looking somewhere else. I choose to ignore how his eyes glisten, for his sake.

“I do.” I say, I didn’t really know which other words to pick. How do I explain I know everything? How do I explain that I saw the fight that killed him? That I  _ know _ the fighter inside out who did the deed? 

I’ve met Seo Changbin in person once in my entire life, but I know who he is. I know what he’s like. 

It’s common knowledge that Minho died  _ days _ after, but still, it doesn’t change why it happened. And after  _ evaluations _ no less. It makes Jinyoung’s entire company look sloppy to some, but to others it makes him look even more powerful. It marks him as someone to be terrified of;

Even his boys won’t hold back on each  _ other. _ It just creates a juicier storyline for the public, something more exciting to swallow.

I just think it’s barbaric.

“I do.” I repeat myself to make it even more powerful. I want this conversation to end with my entire being, but Seungmin’s expression says otherwise, it says that I am definitely not finished talking about this. I take a deep breath, preparing myself.

“So then you know what you are, right?” Seungmin straightens to stand even taller and it’s suddenly incredibly obvious who’s taller.

It’s not me.

“Seungmin-” Hyunjin has had enough of this as well but Seungmin continues as if his Hyung hasn’t spoke at all. 

“You know you’re a replacement,  _ right?” _ He presses. I shift uncomfortably, swallowing again. My eyes flit to Hyunjin, then back to Seungmin. I know that if I don’t defend myself now,  _ gently, _ than forever this is going to be a problem. 

“I’ve been written into your schedule for over a month, Seungmin.” I say slowly. “Since before you got the paper, and before Minho passed away.” I choose my words very carefully, trying my best to stay calm. “I am not his replacement, I don’t want any of you to think that at all. I’m just Jisung,” I pause when Seungmin’s gaze doesn’t give way.  _ “I’m on your side.”  _ It’s a plea, but without the vulnerability. There’s strength behind it, reassurance for Seungmin that I’m definitely fighting for him, and, should Seungmin concede, reassurance for  _ me _ that things are going to be okay. Seungmin doesn’t come any closer, and his frozen eyes melt very slowly into honey, until he’s turned away finally.

“Whatever.” He leaves the kitchen quickly, which is not exactly what I expected, but better than him hitting me or anything. I consider that a win. Hyunjin watches his back pass through the doorway until he’s out of sight, and then he sighs heavily. The tension in his shoulders never left, I observe, and he leans backwards against the counter. He just looks tired, so fucking tired. 

Based off of what Jinyoung told me Hyunjin never really gets a break, which has to do with how often evaluations and fights occur. Apparently, he’s never  _ not _ attending to somebody’s life threatening wounds, and unfortunately sometimes they’re his own. I purse my lips as I look at him, because it’s almost painful how worn out he looks. Bones stick out in places they shouldn’t, probably because of how hard he’s working and I’m  _ assuming _ how little they eat. We never ate well back where I came from, but Hyunjin looks especially underweight. 

This comes from stress though, which I know only too well. How can someone have an appetite if they’re around blood all the time anyways? I make my own silent vow to make sure he eats well now.

“I’m…  _ sorry _ about him,” Hyunjin says, sighing and looking like he doesn’t know what else to say. “He’s just… dealing? With some shit, you know how it is-” He takes a deep breath.  _ “Who am I fucking kidding _ you know what’s wrong with us,” He stands upright suddenly and I mirror him, afraid he’s going to topple over. “Losing-  _ losing _ Minho fucked everyone up,” His voice cracks in certain places and it breaks my heart very quietly. “So I’m sorry, Seungmin is especially touchy about it- I- I don’t really know what else to-”

“It’s okay,” I say, not too quickly. I know how to deal with situations like this. I need to let him speak without letting him feel like it’s a one sided conversation. “I understand, it’s not nothing, not at all. His anger is justified.” I speak so that Hyunjin can truly  _ listen _ and not just hear. I watch him process my words, and I watch his shoulders relax- only slightly. He turns back around, grabbing the water glass.

“Water?” He asks. I nod.

“I’d love some.” He hands me the glass and fills the second one for himself. With Seungmin gone he puts away the third glass, pausing before he closes the cupboard. He’s staring at the glasses; there are nine of them, counting the two in our hands. I bite my tongue.

“We bought an extra glass when we knew you were coming,” He says softly, a light smile on his lips as he turns around slowly. “We… don’t really need it now, but that’s okay.” I’m not quite sure what to do with this information, it’s just, really  _ sad.  _ I try to stop my brows from knitting together but it doesn’t quite work and Hyunjin laughs when he looks at the awkward sour expression on my face. I should have just let it happen, maybe I’d look less like an idiot. “It’s okay,” He says, still chuckling. “The thought just occurred to me is all.” I take in a breath of relief, taking a sip from my glass. 

Hyunjin and I stand in silence for ten minutes just enjoying each other’s company. It’s not even that awkward; the two of us have already discovered we’re men of little words, which is nice. It’s good to be able to just be quiet with someone, and I don’t want to leave the kitchen anyways because somewhere in the apartment is an angry Seungmin and a very wounded child and I don’t want to see either of them right now. 

The kitchen is just fine thanks.

Eventually however, the front door opens, and excitedly Hyunjin places his glass down on the counter, mouth still full of water. He takes my cup from me, putting them both in the sink quickly. He seems to be very happy with the newcomers. He swallows his water with a painful gulp and takes my arm in a hand, dragging me into the living room. The door is only just shut when the others look around and Hyunjin proudly shoves me forwards like something he’s won to show off to the others. There are two of them and they stare at me for a moment, before something seems to register on their faces and they understand who I am.

“Hello, I’m Han Jisung-” I begin to say, quite politely I must admit, before I’m interrupted. The face of the man with darker hair lights up and he walks over to me, taking me into a hug which is  _ definitely  _ not what I was expecting. 

“Jisung! We didn’t know when you’d be here!” He’s excited, actually  _ happy- _ seemingly- and he pulls back with a huge smile on his face. “I’m Chan, that’s Woojin-” He gestures to the man standing behind him. He looks sweet, but most definitely quiet- not something I mind at all. “We’re- I’m so happy you’re here.” He finishes, and there’s not much I can do but nod and say;

“I’m glad to be here too.” Chan sits me down on the couch, asking me if I need anything and of course I say no, noting how the thought was sweet and that he seems like a good man.

“We fight tomorrow,” Chan says. “With Woojin and Seungmin, it’s going to be a big day-” As soon as he says Seungmin’s name my blood turns to ice. I feel bad that our relationship is like  _ that  _ right now, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

But show him kindness of course.

I nod, proving to Chan that I’m listening. 

“It’s a team fight, tomorrow, did you know that?” Now this is news. 

_ Never  _ have I been a part of a team fight. 

It only makes sense though, why would they schedule four separate fights when they could just create one  _ big _ one? More bodies more money no?

“I… didn’t.” I say, which definitely feels like a dumb thing to say, but Chan only laughs. 

“That’s okay,” He says, but I feel like he’s trying to hide anxiety. “It’s all good, we fight very well together, and you seem very competent. What’s your style like?”  _ Alone? Very alone and very good at being alone. _

Which is the epitome of unhelpfulness in a group fight.

Well fuck.

“Defensive,” I say instead, which is also true and much more applicable. Chan seems pleased with that answer. 

“Great!” He says. “I’m like that as well, and Woojin and Seungmin are much more aggressive. That balances the team, provides them with backup and most importantly protection-” He’s talking to himself more so than he’s communicating with me, but I don’t mind, watching him with wide eyes. He’s brilliant, with a strong personality and strong leadership traits. Woojin and Hyunjin disappeared forever ago, but with how at home Chan managed to make me feel I hadn’t even noticed. Very positive qualities for a person to have. He seems to remember I exist. 

“How often did you fight, before us of course?” He asks and I can’t help it when my muscles stiffen at the question.

“Not too often-” I say. “But often enough to do well I promise.” I catch myself because making Chan think I barely worked the gig before this would bode even worse than the truth. He nods, calculating. 

“That’s good.” Is all he says before his mind switches gears. “You’ve seen Jeongin, right?” He asks and I give him my full attention, nodding. “That’s good…” He says again, trying to think of other things he needs to talk about. 

To my relief Minho remains an undiscussed topic between the two of us.

“And Felix? You saw Felix?” I nod. “He was supposed to fight a few days ago but it got postponed,” Chan explains. “Because of....” He trails off, but bounces back quickly “He’ll fight next time we’re involved,” But not tomorrow, he continues to tell me, because tomorrow is already set as the bizarre, extremely rare, team fight. “Speaking of which-” He stands up. “I know it’s late, but are you willing to practice, even just for an hour, with us? I’d rest better knowing whether the team is going to mesh or not.” He says and I nod with more energy than I actually posses.

“Of course,” And I know I’ll have no problem with them- but will Seungmin have a problem with me… I pray that he doesn’t, but who fucking knows.

I have no doubt in my fighting ability either, because little do these boys know I’ve been doing this longer than they have, but that’s a story for another time. Once Chan gathers the other two we head down to the practice room, and Seungmin avoids me the whole way.

We end up spending two hours down there, going through drills and fights and basics and strategy for the better of 120 minutes. It’s refreshing, honestly, and as little as Seungmin talks to me and as much as he glares when it comes down to it we have no problem fighting alongside each other. This is reassuring, because tomorrow is going to be ugly if he tries to stab me mid fight.

I  _ really _ hope he doesn’t.

We get back to the dorm ugly and sweaty, and we take turns showering. I go last, and I dress in the washroom quickly. It has to be 1am and the weariness weighs my limbs down steadily. I sigh in the mirror, fluffing my hair and exiting the washroom in my pajamas, doing my best to be quiet as I enter the bedroom, knowing Jeongin at  _ least _ is sleeping. 

There are a few other lumps taking up certain bunks but Hyunjin, one of my favorite friendly faces is one of them. I look around awkwardly. So are Chan, Woojin, Felix, Changbin.

Everyone. Everyone but Seungmin. 

He walks into the room behind me, pausing when he passes me. He looks around too, probably hoping one of his Hyung’s is awake so that he doesn’t have to deal with me, but quickly it becomes obvious that none of them are. I feel him sigh heavily and I try not to take it personally. He pivots to face me, brown hair slightly damp from his shower. He stretches an arm out to his left, pointing towards a bed in the far corner. I nod after he says nothing, walking slowly towards it. I pick my bag up off the floor as he mutters; “The top one.” And I throw my junk up there.  _ Obviously  _ I was going to sleep on the top one, Woojin inhabits the bottom. I climb the ladder carefully, trying my best to make no noise, and I settle down slowly. I’m almost ready to lie down completely when Seungmin’s voice sounds from somewhere below me, on a bunk far away. He turned out the light before getting inside. 

“You know that was his bed right?” He says, and the words send chills down my spine. I resist the urge to whimper like a kicked puppy, because very suddenly I no longer want to be in this space, this  _ spot _ in particular because a dead boy  _ lived _ here and I’d rather not  _ literally take his place.  _ That’s what I’m doing,  _ exactly  _ what I’m doing by being in this bunk.

Literally sleeping in his bed.

_ “Oh my god-”  _ I try not to let it bother me, even after Seuming has long since drifted off, but now I can’t get it out of my mind.  _ Am I supposed to be here forever? Is this  _ my _ bed now?  _ The chills only get worse until it feels like a thousand spiders are crawling across my skin. I sit up, sweating, and then I can’t handle it anymore. 

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, descending the ladder in the darkness as quietly as I can. I pad to the door, opening it carefully, and make my way down the hallway. 

The couch looks comfy enough.

I settle down onto it, the cold air I hadn’t noticed before sinking it’s claws into my chest, and I take in a deep breath to calm my nerves. Is this going to be my every day now? This couch? Or  _ that _ bed? The thought makes my stomach churn and anxiety grips my heart with more fervor than it has all day. It doesn’t help that conjured images of what the fight might look like tomorrow are flashing behind my eyelids and I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, trying to dispel them.

“Jisung?” I jump, eyes flying open when I hear my name. Chan is standing in the hallway. He laughs. “What- what are you doing out here?” But my face in even the dim lighting must give me away and his features soften into confusion and then concern as he makes his way over to me.

“Why are you awake?” I mutter, letting him sit down beside me. He sits cross legged, chuckling lightly at the question. 

“What is sleep in this business, right?” He asks quietly, and I nod. It’s definitely not a good thing however for him to be restless the night before a fight, though. Does he do this every time? 

I ask him.

“No- no only when the others are fighting. I don’t care about my fights.” He says. I raise my eyebrows.

The others fight a  _ lot. _

“Why?”

“I’m afraid I’ll lose them.” He says simply. “I’m too scared of that to sleep before they go out.” The answer is so simple, so basic it’s almost impossible to understand. 

It’s powerful, too. It tells me Chan probably cares  _ too _ much about the others.

It’s dangerous to grow attached, I know this first hand.

“Why are you out  _ here?”  _ He asks me after a moment of silence. I purse my lips, not wanting to tell a lie while wanting so desperately to avoid the truth. But the truth seems like the nicest option, and probably a good way to get Chan to trust me.

“I can’t sleep in that bunk.” I say, and I don’t say anything else, I don’t need to. He sucks in a sharp breath.

“I see.” He says, and he shifts, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s too cold out here.” He says finally, standing up. “Sleep in my bed, it’s better than… the other one. And definitely better than a cold, bloody couch.” I frown because sleeping in his bed is also wrong, it’s where  _ he’s _ supposed to be, but my body is numb and I’m too tired to argue. He guides me happily back to the bedroom- which  _ is _ much warmer- and shows me which bunk is his. I lie down on it, not really having the sense to do much else. 

“Don’t feel bad about this, I’m going to be in the kitchen if you need me.” He whispers in the darkness. I’m already drifting off, but I nod, hoping he can see me, and slowly, with a  _ serious _ pang of guilt as I watch Chan’s back disappear, fall into the grasp of sleep, letting the warmth pry the claws of ice from my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated, tysm for reading and sticking with it, and if you're new welcome lmao <3 I hope this was okay, i know it's not my best work but i'll work harder in the future~


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